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tIPlje KitietsfiDc ilttctature Attics 
SELECTIONS FROM 

BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

BY 

WASHINGTON IRVING 

EDITED WITH NOTES AND INTRODUCTION 
BY 

SAMUEL TIIURBER, eJu. 

HEAD OF THE ENOLISH DKPAKTMENT IN THE 
TECUMCAL UIGH SCHOOL OF XEWTON, MASS. 




BOSTON NEW YORK AND CHICAGO 

HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY 



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COPYRIGHT, 1910, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN. COMPANY 
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 



The text of this volume is used by permission of, and by 
arrangement with, Messrs. G. P. Putnam's Sons, the author- 
ized publishers of Irving's Works. 

C.C1.A>!59517 



PREFATORY NOTE 

Owing largely to the specifications of the College Entrance 
Requirements, the Sketch-Book alone, of all Irving's work, 
is read in the majority of secondary schools. Though a per- 
fectly natural, this is an unfortunate condition of things. Un- 
doubtedly the Sketch-Book is the most widely known, the 
most literary "classic," of Irving's books; but for pupils 
of high-school age the Tales of a Traveller, The Alhamhra^ 
and portions of Bracebridge Hall are just as instructive, 
much less difficult to understand, and vastly more interesting. 

The editor has repeatedly used these selections from 
Bracebridge Hall in the two lower classes of the high school 
with pleasure and, he believes, with profit. Without doubt 
they could be read in the upper grammar grades. They fur- 
nish an admirable preparation for the study later of longer 
and more difficult essays. Moreover, they are excellent mate- 
rial to use in the teaching of composition, especially the con- 
struction of unified, coherent paragraphs. They ought, as 
well, to interest every normal boy and girl. 

At the end of the book will be found explanatory notes; 
also a few questions and lists of words for dictionary study. 
Each individual teacher must of course decide whether it 
is profitable to use these notes or to neglect them entirely. 
They are intended only as suggestions. 

Samuel Thurber, Jr. 



CONTENTS 

Introduction 

Ibving's Place in American Literature . . . vii 

What Critics have said of iRvrsa .... x 

Important Dates in Irving's Life ..... xi 

Irving's Principal Works xii 

Selections from Bracebridge Hall 

The Hall 1 

The Busy Man 4 

The Widow 9 

An Old Soldier . 13 

The Widow's Retinue 17 

Ready-Money Jack 21 

Story-Telling 27 

^. The Stout Gentleman 28 

The Farm-House 41 

Falconry 45 

Hawking- 50 

Fortune-Telling 57 

Gipsies 62 

Village Worthies 67 

The Schoolmaster 69 

The Rookery 75 

May-Day 83 

The Culprit 93 

The Wedding 100 

Explanatory Notes and Questions Ill 



INTRODUCTION 

IRVING'S PLACE IN AMERICAN LITERATURE 

On November 28, 1859, Washington Irving died at his 
home on the Hudson River. Just a month later. Lord Macau- 
lay, the eminent English essayist and historian, passed away 
in London. Within a few weeks there appeared a short but 
remarkable essay upon these two illustrious men. The au- 
thor of this article, who preferred to call it "only a word in 
testimony of respect," was no less a person than the novehst 
Thackeray. "Two men," he wrote, "famous, admired, be- 
loved, have just left us, the Goldsmith and the Gibbon of 
our time. One (Irving) was the first ambassador whom the 
New World of Letters sent to the Old." Better than any- 
thing that has ever been written, these words describe the 
place of Washington Irving in American literature. 

For forty years after the War of Independence, the atti- 
tude of English critics and English readers towards American 
writers was either bluntly hostile, or cynical and sneering. 
"There is no such thing as an American book," declared 
the editor of Blackwood's Magazine. "To state publicly 
that a book is written in the United States is to condemn 
it before it has been read." Nor is it difficult to explain why 
this prejudice existed. The times were too near the dark 
years of '75 and '76 for men to forget. People were alive 
who remembered the Battle of Saratoga and the surrender 
of Cornwallis. Smouldering fires of hatred had been fanned 
into flame again by the War of 1812. Therefore, after the 
long years of struggle, when the colonies had become an 
independent republic, there naturally existed in England 
a national jealousy of the lost provinces, — a feeling which 
developed into a general contempt and belittling of every- 



viii INTRODUCTION 

thing American, — manners, customs, politics, laws, insti- 
tutions, — and, of course, American books. 

On the other hand, little or nothing had yet been pro- 
duced in the New World of marked power or originality, — 
certainly nothing had been written that has lasted. Without 
a folk-lore, without a mass of legendary tales and traditions, 
without an inheritance of poetic temperament, without even a 
national sense, the first American authors turned helplessly to 
England for their subject material and their inspirations. 
They even went so far as to imitate deliberately the manner 
and style of popular English writers of the previous genera- 
tion. American literature was thus in 18'-20 in its extreme 
infancy. Cooper had yet to publish his first novel. Though 
Bryant had printed Thanatopsisy he was still an obscure 
country lawyer among the hills of western Massachusetts. 
Longfellow, Lowell, Whittier, and Hawthorne were boys in 
their New England homes; Emerson was at Harvard; Poe 
was attending school in Richmond. Even the classic auto- 
biography of Franklin was still in manuscript, unknown 
to the world. Except for the novels of Brockden Brown, the 
poems of Freneau, and possibly the orations of Otis, Wash- 
ington, Jefferson, and Hamilton, there was really no Amer- 
ican literature until May of the year 1819, when Washington 
Irving began to publish the Sketch-Book. 

Irving's mission was to write to please his countrymen and 
also all English-speaking people; to place higher, once for 
all, the standard of American authorship ; to win the respect 
and attention of prejudiced European readers; to convince 
the whole world that the new republic was not wholly illiter- 
ate or provincial; above everything, to bring English and 
American readers — and thus all England and all America 
— closer together in friendship, sympathy, and mutual con- 
fidence. Such a high mission he undertook and fulfilled. 
From America he went to England, the first ambassador 
of letters from the New World to the Old, — where, by 
his delightful and humorous essays, his winning manners, 
his simplicity, his sympathy, his fairness, and his personal 



INTRODUCTION ix 

charm, he won the hearts of the British people. Through 
him, as through no other man,, American literature and 
the American nation grew in dignity and in respect among 
Englishmen. 

To quote further from Thackeray, — "He came amongst 
us bringing the kindest sympathy, the most artless, smiling 
good-will. His new country (which some people here might 
be disposed to regard rather superciliously) could send us, 
as he showed in his own person, a gentleman, who, though 
himself born in no very high sphere, was most finished, 
polished, easy, witty, quiet; and, socially, the equal of the 
most refined Europeans. If living's welcome in England was 
a kind one, was it not also gratefully remembered ? If he ate 
our salt, did he not pay us with a thankful heart ? Who can 
calculate the amount of friendliness and good feeling for our 
country which this writer's generous and untiring regard for 
us disseminated in his own ? His books are read by millions 
of his countrymen, whom he has taught to love England, 
and why to love her. It would have been easy to speak other- 
wise than he did : to inflame national rancors, which, at the 
time when he first became known as a public writer, war had 
just renewed : to cry down the old civilization at the expense 
of the new : to point out our faults, arrogance, short-comings, 
and give the republic to infer how much she was the parent 
state's superior. There are writers enough in the United 
States, honest and otherwise, who preach that kind of doc- 
trine. But the good Irving, the peaceful, the friendly, had 
no place for bitterness in his heart, and no scheme but kind- 
ness. Received in England with extraordinary tenderness 
and friendship (Scott, Southey, Byron, a hundred others 
have borne witness to their liking for him), he was a messen- 
ger of good-will and peace between his country and ours. 
*See, friends!' he seems to say, 'these English are not so 
wicked, rapacious, callous, proud, as you have been taught 
to believe them. I went amongst them a humble man; won 
my way by my pen; and, when known, found every hand 
held out to me with kindliness and welcome. Scott is a great 



X INTRODUCTION 

man, you acknowledge. Did not Scott's King of England give 
a gold medal to him, and another to me, your countryman, and 
a stranger?'" 

WHAT CRITICS HAVE SAID OF IRVING 

"To a true poet-heart add the fun of Dick Steele, 

Throw in all of Addison, minus the chill. 

With the whole of that partnership's stock and good-will, 

Mix well, and while stirring, hum o'er, as a spell. 

The fine old English Gentleman, simmer it well. 

Sweeten just to your own private liking, then strain. 

That only the finest and clearest remain. 

Let it stand out of doors till a soul it receives 

From the warm lazy sun loitering down through green leaves. 

And you '11 find a choice nature, not wholly deserving 

A name either English or Yankee, — just Irving." 

From A Fable for Critics, James Russell Lowell. 

" When you see Tom Campbell, tell him, with my best love, 
that I have to thank him for making me known to Mr. Wash- 
ington Irving, who is one of the pleasantest acquaintances 
I have made this many a day." — Sir Walter Scott, in 
Lockhart's Life. 

"Throughout his polished pages no thought shocks by its 
extravagance, no word offends by vulgarity or affectation. 
All is gay but guarded, — heedless, but sensitive of the small- 
est blemish." — Edinburgh Review, 1829. 

"He easily surpassed Charles Lamb in evenness of execu- 
tion. Behind all that he did appeared his own serene, happy, 
and well-balanced character." — C. F. Richardson. 

"He never caught the restlessness of this century. . . . 
There is no visible straining to attract attention. He seems 
always writing from an internal calm. . . . To the last he 
basked in the sun and radiated cheerfulness all about him. 
. . . His writings induce to reflection, to quiet musing, to 
tenderness for tradition; they amuse, they entertain, they 



INTRODUCTION xi 

call a check to the feverishness of modern life." — Charles 
Dudley Warner, Life of Irving. 

''It [the name of Irving] is the synonym of a sweet literary 
grace and a harmless gayety of humor which retain their 
charm in the midst of new tastes and among powerful rivals." 
— George William Curtis. 

"In our lighter literature he is without a rival as an artist. 
He is equally happy in delineations of scenery and charac- 
ter. His style is unrivalled in picturesque effect." — F. H. 
Underwood. 

" He is perhaps best as an essayist, and he will be perma- 
nent for his charm and refinement; yet it must not be for- 
gotten that he was practically the discoverer, for Americans 
at least, of the effectiveness of the short story as a form of 
art '♦ _ From The New International Encyclopaedia. 

*' Irving is the prince of American humorists; his humor 
is unhke that of any other writer. In reading the works of 
other humorists, you are frequently conscious of a strained 
effect; the author seems to be making an effort to be funny. 
In Irving this rarely, if ever, appears. He seems to make us 
laugh because he cannot help it; and, consequently, one may 
read his lighter works again and again without any perception 
of weakness or staleness." — Charles Dudley Warner. 

" It is the genial coloring of his humorous conceptions, 
not their mechanism, that wins our interest. He often makes 
us smile, but seldom elicits a broad guffaw, — for his con- 
ceptions are charged with a feeling softened by culture and 
tempered by geniality." — D. J. Hill. 

IMPORTANT DATES IN IRVING'S LIFE 

1783, April 3 . Born in New York City, the youngest of 

eleven children. 
1789-1797 . . At school in New York City. 
1799 Declines opportunity to enter Columbia, and 

begins to study law. 



xii INTRODUCTION 

1804-1806 . . Voyage to Europe for health. 

1806 Admitted to the New York bar. 

1807 Publishes his first essay. 

1815 Second voyage to Europe. 

1815-1820 . . In Great Britain; meets Sir Walter Scott; 
travels; writes. 

1820-1826 . . Travels on .the continent and in England. 

1826-1829 . . In Spain. 

1829-1831 . . Secretary of Legation in London. 

1832 Returns to America after seventeen years 

abroad; received with great popular ova- 
tions. 

1832 ..... Settles at *'Sunnyside," near Tarrytown-on- 
the-Hudson. 

1842-1846 . . Minister to Spain. 

1859 Dies at Sunnyside, November 28, in his 

seventy-sixth year. 

IRVING'S PRINCIPAL WORKS 

1807 Contributes essays, with his brothers, to Sal- 
magundi, an imitation of the Spectator. 

1809 A History of New York, by Diedrich Knicker- 
bocker. " A charming mixture of history and 
fiction, brimful of humor, and the most 
entertaining account we have of Dutch 
manners and customs in the early days of 
New York." 

1819 The Sketch-Book. The most popular and 

probably the most lasting of Irving's works. 

1822 ..... Bracebridge Hall. A continuation of The 
Sketch-Book. Written in England. 

1824 Tales of a Traveller. A volume of short stories 

written while travelling in Europe. 

1828 . ; . . . History of the Life and Times of Christopher 
Columbus. 

1829 A Chronicle of the Conquest of Granada. In- 
teresting, but of no historical value. 



INTRODUCTION xiii 

1831 Voyages and Discoveries of the Companions 

of Columbus. 

1832 TheAlhambra. Sometfmes called " The Span- 
ish Sketch-Book." Written largely in Lon- 
don after his residence in Spain. 

1849 Oliver Goldsmith. 

1849-1850 . . Mahomet and his Successors, 

1855-1859 . . Life of Washington. 



BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

THE HALL 

The reader, if he has perused the volumes of the 
Sketch-Booky will probably recollect something of the 
Bracebridge family, with which I once passed a Christ- 
mas. I am now on another visit at the Hall, having 
been invited to a wedding which is shortly to take place. 
The Squire's second son, Guy, a fine, spirited young 
captain in the army, is about to be married to his 
father's ward, the fair Julia Templeton. A gathering 
of relations and friends has already commenced, to 
celebrate the joyful occasion ; for the old gentleman is 
an enemy to quiet, private weddings. "There is no- 
thing," he says, "like launching a young couple gayly, 
and cheering them from the shore ; a good outset is half 
the voyage." 

Before proceeding any farther, I would beg that the 
Squire might not be confounded with that class of 
hard-riding, fox-hunting gentlemen so often described, 
and, in fact, so nearly extinct in England. I use this 
rural title partly because it is his universal appellation 
throughout the neighborhood, and partly because it 
saves me the frequent repetition of his name, which is 
one of those rough old English names at which French- 
men exclaim in despair. 

The Squire is, in fact, a lingering specimen of the 
old English country gentleman; rusticated a little by 



2 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

living almost entirely on his estate, and something of a 
humorist, as Englishmen are apt to become when they 
have an opportunity of living in their own way. I like 
his hobby passing well, however, which is, a bigoted 
devotion to old English manners and customs ; it jumps 
a little with my own humor, having as yet a lively and 
unsated curiosity about the ancient and genuine char- 
acteristics of my "fatherland." 

There are some traits about the Squire's family, also, 
which appear to me to be national. It is one of those 
old aristocratical families, which, I believe, are peculiar 
to England, and scarcely understood in other countries ; 
that is to say, families of the ancient gentry, who, 
though destitute of titled rank, maintain a high ances- 
tral pride : who look down upon all nobility of recent 
creation, and would consider it a sacrifice of dignity 
to merge the venerable name of their house in a modern 
title. 

This feeling is very much fostered by the importance 
which they enjoy on their hereditary domains. The 
family mansion is an old manor-house, standing in a 
retired and beautiful part of Yorkshire. Its inhabitants 
have been always regarded, through the surrounding 
country, as " the great ones of the earth" ; and the little 
village near the Hall looks up to the Squire with almost 
feudal homage. An old manor-house, and an old fam- 
ily of this kind, are rarely to be met with at the present 
day ; and it is probably the peculiar humor of the Squire 
that has retained this secluded specimen of English 
housekeeping in something like the genuine old style. 

I am again quartered in the paneled chamber, in the 
antique wing of the house. The prospect from my win- 
dow, however, has quite a different aspect from that 



THE HALL 3 

which it wore on my winter visit. Though early in the 
month of April, yet a few warm, sunshiny days have 
drawn forth the beauties of the spring, which, I think, 
are always most captivating on their first opening. The 
parterres of the old-fashioned garden are gay with 
flowers ; and the gardener has brought out his exotics, 
and placed them along the stone balustrades. The 
trees are clothed with green buds and tender leaves. 
When I throw open my jingling casement, I smell the 
odor of mignonette, and hear the hum of the bees from 
the flowers against the sunny wall, with the varied song 
of the throstle, and the cheerful notes of the tuneful 
little wren. 

While sojourning in this strong-hold of old fashions, 
it is my intention to make occasional sketches of the 
scenes and characters before me. I would have it under- 
stood, however, that I am not writing a novel, and have 
nothing of intricate plot nor marvelous adventure to 
promise the reader. The Hall of which I treat has, for 
aught I know, neither trap-door, nor sliding-panel, nor 
donjon-keep; and indeed appears to have no mystery 
about it. The family is a worthy well-meaning family, 
that, in all probability, will eat and drink, and go to 
bed, and get up regularly, from one end of my work to 
the other ; and the Squire is so kind-hearted that I see 
no likelihood of his throwing any kind of distress in the 
way of the approaching nuptials. In a word, I cannot 
foresee a single extraordinary event that is likely to 
occur in the whole term of my sojourn at the Hall. 

I tell this honestly to the reader, lest, when he finds 
me dallying along, through every-day English scenes, 
he may hurry ahead, in hopes of meeting with some 
marvelous adventure further on. I invite him, on the 



4 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

contrary, to ramble gently on with me, as he would 
saunter out into the fields, stopping occasionally to 
gather a flower, or listen to a bird, or admire a prospect, 
without any anxiety to arrive at the end of his career. 
Should I, however, in the course of my wanderings 
about this old mansion, see or hear any thing curious, 
that might serve to vary the monotony of this every- 
day life, I shall not fail to report it for the reader's 
entertainment. 

THE BUSY MAN 

By no one has my return to the Hall been more 
heartily greeted than by Mr. Simon Bracebridge, or 
Master Simon, as the Squire most commonly calls him. 
I encountered him just as I entered the park, where he 
was breaking a pointer, and he received me with all the 
hospitable cordiality with which a man welcomes a 
friend to another one's house. I have already intro- 
duced him to the reader as a brisk old bachelor-looking 
little man; the wit and superannuated beau of a large 
family connection, and the Squire's factotum. I found 
him, as usual, full of bustle; with a thousand petty 
things to do, and persons to attend to, and in chirping 
good-humor; for there are few happier beings than a 
busy idler ; that is to say, a man who is eternally busy 
about nothing. 

I visited him, the morning after my arrival, in his 
chamber, which is in a remote corner of the mansion, 
as he says he likes to be to himself, and out of the way. 
He has fitted it up in his own taste, so that it is a perfect 
epitome of an old bachelor's notions of convenience 
and arrangement. The furniture is made up of odd 



THE BUSY MAN 5 

pieces from all parts of the house, chosen on account 
of their suiting his notions, or fitting some corner of 
his apartment ; and he is very eloquent in praise of an 
ancient elbow-chair, from which he takes occasion to 
digress into a censure on modern chairs, as having 
degenerated from the dignity and comfort of high- 
backed antiquity. 

Adjoining to his room is a small cabinet, which he 
calls his study. Here are some hanging shelves, of his 
own construction, on which are several old works on 
hawking, hunting, and farriery, and a collection or two 
of poems and songs of the reign of Elizabeth, which 
he studies out of compliment to the Squire; together 
with the Novelist's Magazine, the Sporting Magazine, 
the Racing Calendar, a volume or two of the Newgate 
Calendar, a book of peerage, and another of heraldry. 

His sporting-dresses hang on pegs in a small closet; 
and about the walls of his apartment are hooks to hold 
his fishing-tackle, whips, spurs, and a favorite fowling- 
piece, curiously wrought and inlaid, which he inherits 
from his grandfather. He has, also, a couple of old 
single-keyed flutes, and a fiddle which he has repeatedly 
patched and mended himself, affirming it to be a 
veritable Cremona; though I have never heard him 
extract a single note from it that was not enough to 
make one's blood run cold. 

From this little nest his fiddle will often be heard, in 
the stillness of mid-day, drowsily sawing some long- 
forgotten tune; for he prides himself on having a choice 
collection of good old English music, and will scarcely 
have any thing to do with modern composers. The 
time, however, at which his musical powers are of 
most use, is now and then of an evening, when he plays 



6 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

for the children to dance in the hall, and he passes 
among them and the servants for a perfect Orpheus. 

His chamber also bears evidence of his various avo- 
cations : there are half-copied sheets of music ; designs 
for needlework; sketches of landscapes, very indiffer- 
ently executed; a camera lucida; a magic lantern, for 
which he is endeavoring to paint glasses; in a word, 
it is the cabinet of a man of many accomplishments, 
who knows a little of every thing, and does nothing 
well. 

After I had spent some time in his apartment, ad- 
miring the ingenuity of his small inventions, he took 
me about the establishment, to visit the stables, dog- 
kennel, and other dependencies, in which he appeared 
like a general visiting the different quarters of his camp ; 
as the Squire leaves the control of all these matters to 
him, when he is at the Hall. He inquired into the state 
of the horses; examined their feet; prescribed a drench 
for one, and bleeding for another; and then took me 
to look at his own horse, on the merits of which he 
dwelt with great prolixity, and which, I noticed, had 
the best stall in the stable. 

After this I was taken to a new toy of his and the 
Squire's, which he termed the falconry, where there 
were several unhappy birds in durance, completing 
their education. Among the number was a fine falcon, 
which Master Simon had in especial training, and he 
told me that he would show me, in a few days, some 
rare sport of the good old-fashioned kind. In the course 
of our round, I noticed that the grooms, gamekeeper, 
whippers-in, and other retainers, seemed all to be on 
somewhat of a familiar footing with Master Simon, 
and fond of having a joke with him, though it was evi- 



THE BUSY MAN 7 

dent they had great deference for his opinion in matters 
relating to their functions. 

There was one exception, however, in a testy old 
huntsman, as hot as a pepper-corn ; a meagre, wiry old 
fellow, in a threadbare velvet jockey-cap, and a pair 
of leather breeches, that, from much wear, shone as 
though they had been japanned. He was very contra- 
dictory and pragmatical, and apt, as I thought, to differ 
from Master Simon, now and then, out of mere cap- 
tiousness. This was particularly the case with respect 
to the treatment of the hawk, which the old man seemed 
to have under his peculiar care, and, according to 
Master Simon, was in a fair way to ruin : the latter had 
a vast deal to say about casting, and imping, and gleam- 
ing, and enseaming, and giving the hawk the rangle, 
w^hich I saw was all heathen Greek to old Christy; but 
he maintained his point notwithstanding, and seemed 
to hold all this technical lore in utter disrespect. 

I was surprised at the good humor with which 
Master Simon bore his contradictions, till he explained 
the matter to me afterwards. Old Christy is the most 
ancient servant in the place, having lived among dogs 
and horses the greater part of a century, and been in 
the service of Mr. Bracebridge's father. He knows the 
pedigree of every horse on the place, and has bestrode 
the great-great-grandsires of most of them. He can 
give a circumstantial detail of every fox-hunt for the 
last sixty or seventy years, and has a history for every 
stag's head about the house, and every hunting trophy 
nailed to the door of the dog-kennel. 

All the present race have grown up under his eye, and 
humor him in his old age. He once attended the Squire 
to Oxford, when he was student there, and enlightened 



8 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

the whole university with his hunting lore. All this is 
enough to make the old man opinionated, since he finds, 
on all these matters of first-rate importance, he knows 
more than the rest of the world. Indeed, Master Simon 
had been his pupil, and acknowledges that he derived 
his first knowledge in hunting from the instructions 
of Christy; and I much question whether the old man 
does not still look upon him as rather a greenhorn. 

On our return homewards, as we were crossing the 
lawn in front of the house, we heard the porter's bell 
ring at the lodge, and shortly afterwards, a kind of 
cavalcade advanced slowly up the avenue. At sight of 
it my companion paused, considered it for a moment, 
and then, making a sudden exclamation, hurried away 
to meet it. As it approached I discovered a fair, fresh- 
looking elderly lady, dressed in an old-fashioned riding- 
habit, with a broad-brimmed white beaver hat, such as 
may be seen in Sir Joshua Reynolds's paintings. She 
rode a sleek white pony, and was followed by a foot- 
man in rich livery, mounted on an over-fed hunter. 
At a little distance in the rear came an ancient cum- 
brous chariot, drawn by two very corpulent horses, 
driven by as corpulent a coachman, beside whom sat 
a page dressed in a fanciful green livery. Inside of the 
chariot was a starched prim personage, with a look 
somewhat between a lady's companion and a lady's 
maid, and two pampered curs, that showed their ugly 
faces, and barked out of each window. 

There was a general turning out of the garrison to 
receive this new-comer. The Squire assisted her to 
alight, and saluted her affectionately; the fair Julia 
flew into her arms, and they embraced with the roman- 
tic fervor of boarding-school friends : she was escorted 



THE WIDOW 9 

into the house by JuHa's lover, towards whom she 
showed distinguished favor ; - and a hne of the old 
servants, who had collected in the Hall, bowed most 
profoundly as she passed. 

I observed that Master Simon was most assiduous 
and devout in his attentions upon this old lady. He 
walked by the side of her pony up the avenue; and, 
while she was receiving the salutations of the rest of the 
family, he took occasion to notice the fat coachman ; 
to pat the sleek carriage horses, and, above all, to say 
a civil word to my lady's gentlewoman, the prim, sour- 
looking vestal in the chariot. 

I had no more of his company for the rest of the 
morning. He was swept off in the vortex that followed 
in the wake of this lady. Once indeed he paused for 
a moment, as he was hurrying on some errand of the 
good lady's, to let me know that this was Lady Lilly- 
craft, a sister of the Squire's, of large fortune, which 
the captain would inherit, and that her estate lay in one 
of the best sporting counties in all England. 



THE WIDOW 

Notwithstanding the whimsical parade made by 
Lady Lilly craft on her arrival, she has none of the 
petty stateliness that I had imagined ; but, on the con- 
trary, a degree of nature, and simple-heartedness, if 
I may use the phrase, that mingles well with her old- 
fashioned manners and harmless ostentation. She 
dresses in rich silks, with long waist; she rouges con- 
siderably, and her hair, which is nearly white, is frizzed 
out, and put up with pins. Her face is pitted with the 



10 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

small-pox, but the delicacy of her features shows that 
she may once have been beautiful ; and she has a very 
fair and well-shaped hand and arm, of which, if I mis- 
take not, the good lady is still a little vain. 

I have had the curiosity to gather a few particulars 
concerning her. She was a great belle in town between 
thirty and forty years since, and reigned for two sea- 
sons with all the insolence of beauty, refusing several 
excellent offers; when, unfortunately, she was robbed 
of her charms and her lovers by an attack of the small- 
pox. She retired immediately into the country, where 
she some time after inherited an estate, and married 
a baronet, a former admirer, whose passion had sud- 
denly revived; "having," as he said, "always loved 
her mind rather than her person." 

The baronet did not enjoy her mind and fortune 
above six months, and had scarcely grown very tired 
of her, when he broke his neck in a fox-chase, and left 
her free, rich, and disconsolate. She has remained on 
her estate in the country ever since, and has never 
shown any desire to return to town, and revisit the 
scene of her early triumphs and fatal malady. All her 
favorite recollections, however, revert to that short 
period of her youthful beauty. She has no idea of town 
but as it was at that time; and continually forgets that 
the place and people must have changed materially 
in the course of nearly half a century. She will often 
speak of the toasts of those days as if still reigning; 
and, until very recently, used to talk with delight of 
the royal family, and the beauty of the young princes 
and princesses. She cannot be brought to think of the 
present king otherwise than as an elegant young man, 
rather wild, but who danced a minuet divinely; and 



THE BUSY MAN 11 

before he came to the crown, would often mention him 
as the " sweet young prince." , 

She talks also of the walks in Kensington Garden, 
where the gentlemen appeared in gold-laced coats and 
cocked hats, and the ladies in hoops, and swept so 
proudly along the grassy avenues; and she thinks the 
ladies let themselves sadly down in their dignity, when 
they gave up cushioned head-dresses, and high-heeled 
shoes. She has much to say too of the officers who were 
in the train of her admirers; and speaks familiarly of 
many wild young blades, who are now, perhaps, hob- 
bling about watering-places with crutches and gouty 
shoes. 

Whether the taste the good lady had of matrimony 
discouraged her or not, I cannot say; but though her 
merits and her riches have attracted many suitors, she 
has never been tempted to venture again into the happy 
state. This is singular, too, for she seems of a most 
soft and susceptible heart; is always talking of love 
and connubial felicity, and is a great stickler for old- 
fashioned gallantry, devoted attentions, and eternal 
constancy, on the part of the gentlemen. She lives, 
however, after her own taste. Her house, I am told, 
must have been built and furnished about the time of 
Sir Charles Grandison: every thing about it is some- 
what formal and stately; but has been softened down 
into a degree of voluptuousness, characteristic of an 
old lady, very tender-hearted and romantic, and who 
loves her ease. The cushions of the great arm-chairs, 
and wide sofas, almost bury you when you sit down on 
them. Flowers of the most rare and delicate kind are 
placed about the rooms and on little japanned stands; 
and sweet bags lie about the tables and mantelpieces. 



12 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

The house is full of pet dogs, Angola cats, and sing- 
ing birds, who are as carefully waited upon as she is 
herself. 

She is dainty in her living, and a little of an epicure, 
living on white meats, and little ladylike dishes, though 
her servants have substantial old English fare, as their 
looks bear witness. Indeed, they are so indulged, that 
they are all spoiled ; and when they lose their present 
place, they will be fit for no other. Her ladyship is one 
of those easy-tempered beings that are always doomed 
to be much liked, but ill served by their domestics, and 
cheated by all the world. 

Much of her time is past in reading novels, of which 
she has a most extensive library, and a constant supply 
from the publishers in town. Her erudition in this line 
of literature is immense; she has kept pace with the' 
press for half a century. Her mind is stuffed with love- 
tales of all kinds, from the stately amours of the old 
books of chivalry, down to the last blue-covered ro- 
mance, reeking from the press; though she evidently 
gives the preference to those that came out in the days 
of her youth, and when she was first in love. She main- 
tains that there are no novels written now-a-days equal 
to Pamela and Sir Charles Grandison; and she places 
the Castle of Otranto at the head of all romances. 

She does a vast deal of good in her neighborhood, 
and is imposed upon by every beggar in the county. 
She is the benefactress of a village adjoining her es- 
tate, and takes an especial interest in all its love affairs. 
She knows of every courtship that is going on; every 
lovelorn damsel is sure to find a patient listener and 
a sage adviser in her ladyship. She takes great pains 
to reconcile all love-quarrels, and should any faithless 



AN OLD SOLDIER 13 

swain persist in his inconstancy, he is sure to draw 
on himself the good lady's violent indignation. 

I have learned these particulars partly from Frank 
Bracebridge, and partly from Master Simon. I am 
now able to account for the assiduous attention of the 
latter to her ladyship. Her house is one of his favor- 
ite resorts, where he is a very important personage. 
He makes her a visit of business once a year, when he 
looks into all her affairs ; which, as she is no manager, 
are apt to get into confusion. He examines the books 
of the overseer, and shoots about the estate, which, he 
says, is well stocked with game, notwithstanding that it 
is poached by all the vagabonds in the neighborhood. 

It is thought, as I before hinted, that the captain 
will inherit the greater part of her property, having 
always been her chief favorite : for, in fact, she is par- 
tial to a red coat. She has now come to the Hall to be 
present at his nuptials, having a great disposition to 
interest herself in all matters of love and matrimony. 

AN OLD SOLDIER 

The Hall was thrown into some little agitation, a 
few days since, by the arrival of General Harbottle. 
He had been expected for several days, and looked for, 
rather impatiently, by several of the family. Master 
Simon assured me that I would like the general hugely, 
for he was a blade of the old school, and an excellent 
table companion. Lady Lillycraft, also, appeared to 
be somewhat fluttered, on the morning of the general's 
arrival, for he had been one of her early admirers ; and 
she recollected him only as a dashing young ensign, 
just come upon the town. She actually spent an hour 



14 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

longer at her toilette, and made her appearance ^Yilh 
her hair uncommonly frizzed and powdered, and an 
additional quantity of rouge. She was evidently a little 
surprised and shocked, therefore, at finding the lithe 
dashing ensign transformed into a corpulent old gen- 
eral, with a double chin ; though it was a perfect picture 
to witness their salutations; the graciousness of her 
profound courtesy, and the air of the old school with 
which the general took off his hat, swayed it gently in 
his hand, and bowed his powdered head. 

All this bustle and anticipation has caused me to 
study the general with a little more attention than, per- 
haps, I should otherwise have done ; and the few days 
that he has already passed at the Hall have enabled 
me, I think, to furnish a tolerable likeness of him to 
the reader. 

He is, as Master Simon observed, a soldier of the old 
school, with powdered head, side locks, and pigtail. 
His face is shaped like the stern of a Dutch man-of- 
war, narrow at top, and wide at bottom, with full rosy 
cheeks and a double chin; so that, to use the cant of 
the day, his organs of eating may be said to be power- 
fully developed. 

The general, though a veteran, has seen very little 
active service, except the taking of Seringapatam, 
which forms an era in his history". He wears a large 
emerald in his bosom, and a diamond on his finger, 
which he got on that occasion, and whoever is unlucky 
enough to notice either, is sure to involve himself in 
the whole history of the siege. To judge from the gen- 
eral's conversation, the taking of Seringapatam is the 
most important affair that has occurred for the last 
century. 



AN OLD SOLDIER 15 

On the approach of warlike times on the continent, 
he was rapidly promoted to get him out of the way of 
younger officers of merit; until, having been hoisted 
to the rank of general, he was quietly laid on the shelf. 
Since that time his campaigns have been principally 
confined to watering-places; where he drinks the waters 
for a slight touch of the liver which he got in India; 
and plays whist with old dowagers, with whom he has 
flirted in his younger days. Indeed, he talks of all 
the fine women of the last half century, and, accord- 
ing to hints which he now and then drops, has enjoyed 
the particular smiles of many of them. 

He has seen considerable garrison duty, and can 
speak of almost every place famous for good quarters, 
and where the inhabitants give good dinners. He is a 
diner-out of first-rate currency, when in town; being 
invited to one place, because he has been seen at an- 
other. In the same way he is invited about the country- 
seats, and can describe half the seats in the kingdom, 
from actual observation; nor is any one better versed 
in court gossip, and the pedigrees and intermarriages 
of the nobility. 

As the general is an old bachelor, and an old beau, 
and there are several ladies at the Hall, especially his 
quondam flame Lady Lillycraft, he is put rather upon 
his gallantry. He commonly passes some time, there- 
fore, at his toilette, and takes the field at a late hour 
every morning, with his hair dressed out and powdered, 
and a rose in his button-hole. After he has breakfasted, 
he walks up and down the terrace in the sunshine, hum- 
ming an air, and hemming between every stave, carry- 
ing one hand behind his back, and with the other touch- 
ing his cane to the ground, and then raising it up to his 



16 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

shoulder. Should he, in these morning promenades, 
meet any of the elder ladies of the family, as he fre- 
quently does Lady Lillycraft, his hat is immediately 
in his hand, and it is enough to remind one of those 
courtly groups of ladies and gentlemen, in old prints 
of Windsor-terrace, or Kensington Garden. 

He talks frequently about " the service," and is fond 
of humming the old song, 

Why, soldiers, why, 

Should we be melancholy, boys? 

Why, soldiers, why. 

Whose business 'tis to die! 

I cannot discover, however, that the general has ever 
run any great risk of dying, excepting from an apo- 
plexy, or an indigestion. He criticises all the battles 
on the continent, and discusses the merits of the com- 
manders, but never fails to bring the conversation, 
ultimately, to Tippoo Saib and Seringapatam. I am 
told that the general was a perfect champion at draw- 
ing-rooms, parades, and watering-places, during the 
late war, and was looked to with hope and confidence 
by many an old lady, when laboring under the terror 
of Bonaparte's invasion. 

He is thoroughly loyal, and attends punctually on 
levees when in town. He has treasured up many 
remarkable sayings of the late king, particularly one 
which the king made to him on a field-day, compli- 
menting him on the excellence of his horse. He extols 
the whole royal family, but especially the present king, 
whom he pronounces the most perfect gentleman and 
best whist-player in Europe. The general swears 
rather more than is the fashion at the present day ; but 
it was the mode in the old school. He is, however, very 



THE WIDOW'S RETINUE Ht 

strict in religious matters, and a stanch churchman. 
He repeats the responses very, loudly in church, and is 
emphatical in praying for the king and royal family. 

At table his royalty waxes very fervent with his sec- 
ond bottle, and the song of " God save the King" puts 
him into a perfect ecstacy. He is amazingly well con- 
tented with the present state of things, and apt to get 
a little impatient at any talk about national ruin and 
agricultural distress. He says he has traveled about the 
country as much as any man, and has met with nothing 
but prosperity; and to confess the truth, a great part 
of his time is spent in visiting from one country-seat 
to another, and riding about the parks of his friends. 
"They talk of public distress," said the general this 
day to me, at dinner, as he smacked a glass of rich 
Burgundy, and cast his eyes about the ample board; 
" they talk of public distress, but where do we find it, 
sir ? I see none. I see no reason any one has to com- 
plain. Take my word for it, sir, this talk about public 
distress is all humbug!" 

THE WIDOW'S RETINUE 

In giving an account of the arrival of Lady Lillycraft 
at the Hall, I ought to have mentioned the entertain- 
ment which I derived from witnessing the unpacking 
of her carriage, and the disposing of her retinue. There 
is something extremely amusing to me in the number 
of factitious wants, the loads of imaginary conveniences, 
but real incumbrances, with which the luxurious are 
apt to burthen themselves. I like to watch the whimsi- 
cal stir and display about one of these petty progresses. 
The number of robustious footmen and retainers of all 



18 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

kinds bustling about, with looks of infinite gravity and 
importance, to do almost nothing. The number of 
heavy trunks, and parcels, and bandboxes belonging 
to my lady; and the solicitude exhibited about some 
humble, odd-looking box, by my lady's maid; the 
cushions piled in the carriage to niake a soft seat still 
softer, and to prevent the dreaded possibility of a jolt; 
the smelling-bottles, the cordials, the baskets of biscuit 
and fruit; the new publications; all provided to guard 
against hunger, fatigue, or ennui ; the led horses to vary 
the mode of traveling; and all this preparation and 
parade to move, perhaps, some very good-for-nothing 
personage about a little space of earth ! 

I do not mean to apply the latter part of these ob- 
servations to Lady Lillycraft, for whose simple kind- 
heartedness I have a very great respect, and who is 
really a most amiable and worthy being. I cannot 
refrain, however, from mentioning some of the motlev 
retinue she has brought with her; and which, indeed, 
bespeak the overflowing kindness of her nature, which 
requires her to be surrounded with objects on which 
to lavish it. 

In the first place, her ladyshij) has a pampered coach- 
man, with a red face, and cheeks that hang down like 
dew-laps. He evidently domineers over her a little with 
respect to the fat horses; and only drives out when he 
thinks proper, and when he thinks it will be "good for 
the cattle." 

She has a favorite page to attend upon her person: 
a handsome boy of about twelve years of age, but a 
mischievous varlet, very much spoiled, and in a fair 
way to be good for nothing. He is dressed in green, 
with a profusion of gold cord and gilt buttons about 



THE WIDOW'S RETINUE 19 

his clothes. She always has one or two attendants of 
the kind, who are replaced by, others as soon as they 
grow to fourteen years of age. She has brought two 
dogs with her, also, out of a number of pets which she 
maintains at home. One is a fat spaniel, called Zephyr 
— though heaven defend me from such a zephyr ! He 
is fed out of all shape and comfort ; his eyes are nearly 
strained out of his head ; he wheezes with corpulency, 
and cannot walk without great difficulty. The other is 
a little, old, gray muzzled curmudgeon, with an un- 
happy eye, that kindles like a coal if you only look at 
him; his nose turns up; his mouth is drawn into wrin- 
kles, so as to show his teeth; in short, he has altogether 
the look of a dog far gone in misanthropy, and totally 
sick of the world. When he walks, he has his tail curled 
up so tight that it seems to lift his feet from the ground ; 
and he seldom makes use of more than three leffs at a 

o 

time, keeping the other drawn up as a reserve. This 
last wretch is called Beauty. 

These dogs are full of elegant ailments unknown to 
vulgar dogs; and are petted and nursed by Lady Lilly- 
craft with the tenderest kindness. They are pampered 
and fed with delicacies by their fellow-minion, the page ; 
but their stomachs are often weak and out of order, so 
that they cannot eat; though I have now and then seen 
the page give them a mischievous pinch, or thwack 
over the head, when his mistress was not by. Thev 
have cushions for their express use, on which they lie 
before the fire, and yet are apt to shiver and moan if 
there is the least draught of air. When any one enters 
the room, they make a tyrannical barking that is abso- 
lutely deafening. They are insolent to all the other 
dogs of the establishment. There is a noble stag-hound. 



20 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

a great favorite of the Squire's, who is a privileged 
visitor to the parlor; but the moment he makes his 
appearance, these intruders fly at him with furious 
rage; and I have admired the sovereign indifference 
and contempt Avith which he seems to look down upon 
his puny assailants. When her ladyship drives out, 
these dogs are generally carried w^ith her to take the 
air; when they look out of each window of the carriage, 
and bark at all vulgar pedestrian dogs. These dogs 
are a continual source of misery to the household : as 
they are always in the way, they every now and then 
get their toes trod on, and then there is a yelping on 
their part, and a loud lamentation on the part of their 
mistress, that fill the room with clamor and confusion. 

Lastly, there is her ladyship's waiting-gentlewoman, 
Mrs. Hannah, a prim, pragmatical old maid; one of 
the most intolerable and intolerant virgins that ever 
lived. She has kept her virtue by her until it has 
turned sour, and now every word and look smacks 
of verjuice. She is the very opposite to her mistress, 
for one hates, and the other loves, all mankind. How 
they first came together I cannot imagine; but they 
have lived together for many years; and the abigail's 
temper being tart and encroaching, and her ladyship's 
easy and yielding, the former has got the complete 
upper hand, and tyrannizes over the good lady in se- 
cret. 

Lady Lillycraft now and then complains of it, in 
great confidence, to her friends, but hushes up the 
subject immediately, if Mrs. Hannah makes her ap- 
pearance. Indeed, she has been so accustomed to be 
attended by her, that she thinks she could not do w ith- 
out her; though one great study of her life is to keep 



READY-MONEY JACK 21 

Mrs. Hannah in good humor, by httle presents and 
kindnesses. 

Master Simon has a most devout abhorrence, mingfled 
with awe, for this ancient spinster. He told me the 
other day, in a whisper, that she was a cursed brim- 
stone — in fact, he added another epithet, which I 
would not repeat for the world. I have remarked, how- 
ever, that he is always extremely civil to her when they 
meet. 



READY-MONEY JACK 

On the skirts of the neighboring village there lives 
a kind of small potentate, who, for aught I know, is a 
representative of one of the most ancient legitimate 
lines of the present day ; for the empire over which he 
reigns has belonged to his family time out of mind. 
His territories comprise a considerable number of good 
fat acres ; and his seat of power is in an old farm-house, 
where he enjoys, unmolested, the stout oaken chair 
of his ancestors. The personage to whom I allude is 
a sturdy old yeoman of the name of John Tibbets, 
or rather Ready-Money Jack Tibbets, as he is called 
throughout the neighborhood. 

The first place where he attracted my attention was 
in the church-yard on Sunday ; where he sat on a tomb- 
stone after the service, with his hat a little on one side, 
holding forth to a small circle of auditors ; and, as I pre- 
sumed, expounding the law and the prophets; until, 
on drawing a little nearer, I found he was only expa- 
tiating on the merits of a brown horse. He presented 
so faithful a picture of a substantial English yeoman, 
such as he is often described in books, heightened. 



22 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

indeed, by some little finery, peculiar to himself, that 
I could not but take note of his whole appearance. 

He was between fifty and sixty, of a strong, muscular 
frame, and at least six feet high, with a physiognomy as 
grave as a lion's, and set off with short, curling, iron- 
gray locks. His shirt-collar was turned down, and dis- 
played a neck covered with the same short, curling, 
gray hair; and he wore a colored silk neckcloth, tied 
very loosely, and tucked in at the bosom, with a green 
paste brooch on the knot. His coat was of dark green 
cloth, with silver buttons, on each of which was en- 
graved a stag, with his own name, John Tibbets, under- 
neath. He had an inner waistcoat of figured chintz, 
between which and his coat was another of scarlet 
cloth, unbuttoned. His breeches were also left unbut- 
toned at the knees, not from any slovenliness, but to 
show a broad pair of scarlet garters. His stockings 
were blue, with white clocks ; he wore large silver shoe- 
buckles; a broad paste buckle in his hat-band; his 
sleeve-buttons were gold seven-shilling pieces; and he 
had bxo or three guineas hanging as ornaments to his 
watch-chain. 

On making some inquiries about him, I gathered, 
that he was descended from a line of farmers that had 
always lived on the same spot, and owned the same 
property; and that half of the church-yard was taken 
up with the tombstones of his race. He has all his life 
been an important character in the place. When a 
youngster he was one of the most roaring blades of the 
neighborhood. No one could match him at wrestling, 
pitching the bar, cudgel play, and other athletic exer- 
cises. Like the renowned Pinner of Wakefield, he was 
the village champion; carried off the prize at all the 



READY-MONEY JACK 23 

fairs, and threw his gauntlet at the country round. 
Even to this day the old people talk of his prowess, 
and undervalue, in comparison, all heroes of the green 
that have succeeded him ; nay, they say, that if Ready- 
Money Jack were to take the field even now, there is 
no one could stand before him. 

When Jack's father died, the neighbors shook their 
heads, and predicted that young hopeful would soon 
make way with the old homestead ; but Jack falsified all 
their predictions. The moment he succeeded to the 
paternal farm he assumed a new character: took a 
wife; attended resolutely to his affairs, and became 
an industrious, thrifty farmer. With the family pro- 
perty he inherited a set of old family maxims, to which 
he steadily adhered. He saw to every thing himself; 
put his own hand to the plough; worked hard; ate 
heartily; slept soundly; paid for every thing in cash 
down; and never danced except he could do it to the 
music of his own money in both pockets. He has never 
been without a hundred or two pounds in gold by him, 
and never allows a debt to stand unpaid. This has 
gained him his current name, of which, by the by, he is 
a little proud ; and has caused him to be looked upon as 
a very wealthy man by all the village. 

Notwithstanding his thrift, however, he has never 
denied himself the amusements of life, but has taken a 
share in every passing pleasure. It is his maxim, that 
*'he that works hard can afford to play." He is, there- 
fore, an attendant at all the country fairs and wakes, 
and has signalized himself by feats of strength and 
prowess on every village green in the shire. He often 
makes his appearance at horse-races, and sports his 
half guinea, and even his guinea at a time; keeps a good 



24 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

horse for his own riding, and to this day is fond of 
following the hounds, and is generally in at the death. 
He keeps up the rustic revels, and hospitalities too, for 
which his paternal farm-house has always been noted ; 
has plenty of good cheer and dancing at harvest-home, 
and, above all, keeps the "merry night," ^ as it is 
termed, at Christmas. 

With all his love of amusement, however, Jack is by 
no means a boisterous jovial companion. He is seldom 
known to laugh even in the midst of his gayety ; but 
maintains the same grave, lion-like demeanor. He is 
very slow at comprehending a joke ; and is apt to sit puz- 
zling at it, with a perplexed look, while the rest of the 
company is in a roar. This gravity has, perhaps, grown 
on him with the growing weight of his character; 
for he is gradually rising into patriarchal dignity in his 
native place. Though he no longer takes an active 
part in athletic sports, he always presides at them, and 
is appealed to on all occasions as umpire. He main- 
tains the peace on the village green at holiday games, 
and quells all brawls and quarrels by collaring the par- 
ties and shaking them heartily, if refractory. No one 
ever pretends to raise a hand against him, or to contend 
against his decisions; the young men having grown up 
in habitual awe of his prowess, and in implicit defer- 
ence to him as the champion and lord of the green. 

He is a regular frequenter of the village inn, the 
landlady having been a sweetheart of his in early life, 

^ Merry Night. A rustic merry-makinji; in a farm-house about 
Christmas, common in some parts of Yorkshire. There is an abun- 
dance of homely fare, tea, cakes, fruit, and ale; various feats of agil- 
ity, amusing games, romping, dancing, and kissing withal. They 
commonly break up at midnight. 



READY-MONEY JACK 25 

and he having always continued on kind terms with 
her. He seldom, however, drinks any thing but a 
draught of ale; smokes his pipe, and pays his reckon- 
ing before leaving the tap-room. Here he "gives his 
little senate laws"; decides bets, which are very gener- 
ally referred to him ; determines upon the characters 
and qualities of horses ; and, indeed, plays now and then 
the part of a judge, in settling petty disputes between 
neighbors, which otherwise might have been nursed 
by country attorneys into tolerable law-suits. Jack is 
very candid and impartial in his decisions, but he has 
not a head to carry a long argument, and is very apt 
to get perplexed and out of patience if there is much 
pleading. He generally breaks through the argument 
with a strong voice, and brings matters to a summary 
conclusion, by pronouncing what he calls the "upshot 
of the business," or, in other words, " the long and the 
short of the matter." 

Jack made a journey to London a great many years 
since, which has furnished him with topics of conver- 
sation ever since. He saw the old king on the terrace 
at Windsor, who stopped, and pointed him out to one 
of the princesses, being probably struck with Jack's 
truly yeoman-like appearance. This is a favorite an- 
ecdote with him, and has no doubt had a great effect in 
making him a most loyal subject ever since, in spite of 
taxes and poor's rates. He was also at Bartholomew 
Fair, where he had half the buttons cut off his coat ; 
and a gang of pickpockets, attracted by his external 
show of gold and silver, made a regular attempt to 
hustle him as he was gazing at a show ; but for once they 
caught a tartar; for Jack enacted as great wonders 
among the gang as Samson (Jid among the Philistines. 



26 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

One of his neighbors, who had. accompanied him to 
town, and was with him at the fair, brought back an 
account of his exploits, which raised the pride of the 
whole village; who considered their champion as hav- 
ing subdued all London, and eclipsed the achieve- 
ments of Friar Tuck, or even the renowned Robin 
Hood himself. 

Of late years the old fellow has begun to take the 
world easily; he works less, and indulges in greater 
leisure, his son having grown up, and succeeded to him 
both in the labors of the farm, and the exploits of the 
green. Like all sons of distinguished men, however, 
his father's renown is a disadvantage to him, for he 
can never come up to public expectation. Though a 
fine active fellow of three-and-lwenty, and quite the 
"cock of the walk," yet the old people declare he is 
nothing like what Ready- Money Jack was at his time 
of life. The youngster himself acknowledges his infe- 
riority, and has a wonderful opinion of the old man, who 
indeed taught him all his athletic accomplishments, 
and holds such a sway over him, that I am told, even 
to this day, he would have no hesitation to take him in 
hands, if he rebelled against paternal government. 

The Squire holds Jack in very high esteem, and 
shows him to all his visitors, as a specimen of old Eng- 
glish " heart of oak." He frequently calls at his house, 
and tastes some of his home-brewed, which is excel- 
lent. He made Jack a present of old Tusser's Hundred 
Points of Good Husbandries which has furnished him 
with reading ever since, and is his text-book and man- 
ual in all agricultural and domestic concerns. He has 
made dog's ears at the most favorite passages, and 
knows many of the poetical maxims by heart. 



STORY-TELLING 27 

Tibbets, though not a man to be daunted or fluttered 
by high acquaintances, and though he cherishes a 
sturdy independence of mind and manner, yet is evi- 
dently gratified by the attentions of the Squire, whom 
he has known from boyhood, and pronounces '*atrue 
gentleman every inch of him." He is, also, on excellent 
terms with Master Simon, who is a kind of privy coun- 
selor to the family ; but his great favorite is the Oxonian, 
whom he taught to wrestle and play at quarter-staff 
when a boy, and considers the most promising young 
gentleman in the whole county. 

STORY-TELLING 

A FAVORITE evening pastime at the Llall, and one 
which the worthy Squire is fond of promoting, is story- 
telling, " a good old-fashioned fireside amusement," as 
he terms it. Indeed, I believe he promotes it chiefly 
because it was one of the choice recreations in those 
days of yore, when ladies and gentlemen were not much 
in the habit of reading. Be this as it may, he will often, 
at supper table, when conversation flags, call on some 
one or other of the company for a story, as it was for- 
merly the custom to call for a song; and it is edifying to 
see the exemplary patience, and even satisfaction, with 
which the good old gentleman will sit and listen to 
some hackneyed tale that he has heard for at least a 
hundred times. 

In this way one evening the current of anecdotes 
and stories ran upon mysterious personages that have 
figured at difl^erent times, and filled the world with 
doubt and conjecture; such as the Wandering Jew; 
the Man with the Iron iVIask, who tormented the curi- 



28 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

osity of all Europe; the Invisible Girl, and last, though 
not least, the Pigfaced Lady. 

At length one of the company was called upon who 
had the most unpromising physiognomy for a story- 
teller that ever I had seen. He was a thin, pale, weazen- 
faced man, extremely nervous, who had sat at one cor- 
ner of the table, shrunk up, as it were, into himself, and 
almost swallowed up in the cape of his coat, as a turtle 
in its shell. 

The very demand seemed to throw him into a ner- 
vous agitation, yet he did not refuse. He emerged his 
head out of his shell, made a few odd grimaces and ges- 
ticulations, before he could get his muscles into order, 
or his voice under command, and then offered to give 
some account of a mysterious personage whom he had 
recently encountered in the course of his travels, and 
one whom he thought fully entitled of being classed 
with the Man with the Iron Mask. 

I was so much struck with his extraordinary narra- 
tive, that I have written it out to the best of my recollec- 
tion, for the amusement of the reader. I think it has 
in it all the elements of that mysterious and romantic 
narrative, so greedily sought after at the present day. 

THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 

A STAGE-COACH ROMANCE 

It was a rainy Sunday in the gloomy month of 
November. I had been detained, in the course of a 
journey, by a slight indisposition, from which I was 
recovering; but was still feverish, and obliged to keep 
within doors all dav, in an inn of the small town of 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 29 

Derby. A wet Sunday in a country inn ! — whoever 
has had the luck to experience one can alone judge of 
my situation. The rain pattered against the casements ; 
the bells tolled for church with a melancholy sound. I 
went to the windows in quest of something to amuse 
the eye ; but it seemed as if I had been placed completely 
out of the reach of all amusement. The windows of my 
bedroom looked out among tiled roofs and stacks of 
chimneys, while those of my sitting-room commanded 
a full view of the stable-yard. I know of nothing more 
calculated to make a man sick of this world than a 
stable-yard on a rainy day. The place was littered with 
wet straw that had been kicked about by travelers 
and stable-boys. In one corner was a stagnant pool 
of water, surrounding an island of muck; there were 
several half-drowned fowls crowded together under a 
cart, among which was a miserable, crest-fallen cock, 
drenched out of all life and spirit; his drooping tail 
matted, as it were, into a sinde feather, alon^ which 
the water trickled from his back ; near the cart was a 
half-dozing cow, chewing the cud, and standing pa- 
tiently to be rained on, with wreaths of vapor rising from 
her reeking hide; a wall-eyed horse, tired of the loneli- 
ness of the stable, was poking his spectral head out of a 
window, with the rain dripping on it from the eaves ; an 
unhappy cur, chained to a doghouse hard by, uttered 
something every now and then, between a bark and a 
yelp; a drab of a kitchen wench tramped backwards 
and forwards through the yard in pattens, looking 
as sulky as the weather itself; every thing, in short, was 
comfortless and forlorn, excepting a crew of hardened 
ducks, assembled like boon companions round a pud- 
dle, and making a riotous noise over their liquor. 



30 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

I was lonely and listless, and wanted amusement. 
My room soon became insupportable. I abandoned 
it, and sought what is technically called the travelers '- 
room. This is a public room set apart at most inns 
for the accommodation of a class of wayfarers, called 
travelers, or riders; a kind of commercial kniirhts- 
errant, who are incessantly scouring the kingdom in 
gigs, on horseback, or by coach. They are the only 
successors that I know of at the present day, to the 
knights-errant of yore. They lead the same kind of 
roving adventurous life, only changing the lance for a 
driving-whip, the buckler for a pattern-card, and the 
coat of mail for an upper Benjamin. Instead of vindi- 
cating the charms of peerless beauty, they rove about, 
spreading the fame and standing of some substantial 
tradesman, or manufacturer, and are ready at any time 
to bargain in his name; it being the fashion now-a-days 
to trade, instead of fight, with one another. As the room 
of the hostel, in the good old fighting times, would be 
hung round at night with the armor of way-worn war- 
riors, such as coats of mail, falchions, and yawning 
helmets; so the travelers'-room is garnished with the 
harnessing of their successors, with box-coats, whips of 
all kinds, spurs, gaiters, and oil-cloth covered hats. 

I was in hopes of finding some of these worthies to 
talk with, but was disappointed. There were, indeed, 
two or three in the room ; but I could make nothing of 
them. One was just finishing his breakfast, quarreling 
with his bread and butter, and huflSng the waiter; 
another buttoned on a pair of gaiters, with many ex- 
ecrations at Boots for not having cleaned his shoes 
well; a third sat drumming on the table with his 
fingers and looking at the rain as it streamed down 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 31 

the window-glass; they all appeared infected by the 
weather, and disappeared, one after the other, without 
exchanging a word. 

I sauntered to the window, and stood gazing at the 
people, picking their way to church, with petticoats 
hoisted midleg high, and dripping umbrellas. The bell 
ceased to toll, and the streets became silent. I then 
amused myself with watching the daughters of a trades- 
man opposite; who, being confined to the house for 
fear of wetting their Sunday finery, played off their 
charms at the front windows, to fascinate the chance 
tenants of the inn. They at length were summoned 
away by a vigilant vinegar-faced mother, and I had 
nothing further from without to amuse me. 

What was I to do to pass away the long-lived day ? 
I was sadly nervous and lonely ; and every thing about 
an inn seems calculated to make a dull day ten times 
duller. Old newspapers, smelling of beer and tobacco 
smoke, and which I had already read half a dozen times. 
Good for nothing books, that were worse than rainy 
weather. I bored myself to death with an old volume 
of the Ladifs Magazine. I read all the commonplaced 
names of ambitious travelers scrawled on the panes 
of glass; the eternal families of the Smiths, and the 
Browns, and the Jacksons, and the Johnsons, and 
all the other sons; and I deciphered several scraps of 
fatiguing inn-window poetry which I have met with in 
all parts of the world. 

The day continued lowering and gloomy; the slov- 
enly, ragged, spongy clouds drifted heavily along; there 
was no variety even in the rain : it was one dull, con- 
tinued, monotonous patter — patter — patter, except- 
ing that now and then I was enlivened by the idea of 



32 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

a brisk shower, from the rattling of the drops upon a 
passing umbrella. 

It was quite refreshing (if I may be allowed a 
hackneyed phrase of the day) when, in the course of 
the morning, a horn blew, and a stage-coach whirled 
through the street, with outside passengers stuck all 
over it, cowering under cotton umbrellas, and seethed 
together, and reeking with the steams of wet box-coats 
and upper Benjamins. 

The sound brought out from their lurking-places 
a crew of vagabond boys, and vagabond dogs, and the 
carroty-headed hostler, and that nondescript animal 
ycleped Boots, and all the other vagabond race that 
infest the purlieus of an inn; but the bustle was tran- 
sient; the coach again whirled on its way; and boy and 
dog, and hostler and Boots, all slunk back again to 
their holes ; the street again became silent, and the rain 
continued to rain on. In fact, there was no hope of its 
clearing up; the barometer pointed to rainy weather; 
mine hostess' tortoise-shell cat sat by the fire washing 
her face, and rubbing her paws over her ears; and, on 
referring to the Almanac, I found a direful prediction 
stretching from the top of the page to the bottom 
through the whole month, " expect — much — rain — 
about — this — time ! " 

I was dreadfully hipped. The hours seemed as if 
they would never creep by. The very ticking of the 
clock became irksome. At length the stillness of the 
house was interrupted by the ringing of a bell. Shortly 
after I heard the voice of a waiter at the bar: "The 
stout gentleman in No. 13, wants his breakfast. Tea 
and bread and butter, with ham and eggs ; the eggs not 
to be too much done.'* 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 33 

In such a situation as mine every incident is of im- 
portance. Here was a subject of speculation presented 
to my mind, and ample exercise for my imagination. 
I am prone to paint pictures to myself, and on this 
occasion I had some materials to work upon. Had the 
guest up stairs been mentioned as Mr. Smith, or Mr. 
Brown, or Mr. Jackson, or Mr. Johnson, or merely as 
" the gentleman in No. 13," it would have been a per- 
fect blank to me. I should have thought nothing of it; 
but "The stout gentleman!" — the very name had 
something in it of the picturesque. It at once gave the 
size; it embodied the personage to my mind's eye, and 
my fancy did the rest. 

He was stout, or, as some term it, lusty ; in all prob- 
ability, therefore, he was advanced in life, some people 
expanding as they grow old. By his breakfasting rather 
late, and in his own room, he must be a man accus- 
tomed to live at his ease, and above the necessity of 
early rising; no doubt a round, rosy, lusty old gentle- 
man. 

There was another violent rino^in^:. The stout "[entle- 
man was impatient for his breakfast. He was evidently 
a man of importance ; " well to do in the world " ; accus- 
tomed to be promptly waited upon ; of a keen appetite, 
and a little cross when hungry; "perhaps," thought I, 
"he may be some London Alderman; or who knows 
but he may be a Member of ParHament.^" 

The breakfast was sent up, and there was a short 
interval of silence; he was, doubtless, making the tea. 
Presently there was a violent ringing; and before it 
could be answered, another ringing still more violent. 
"Bless me! what a choleric old gentleman!" The 
waiter came down in a huff. The butter was rancid, 



34 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

the eggs were over-done, the ham was too salt : — the 
stout gentleman was evidently nice in his eating; one 
of those who eat and growl, and keep the waiter on 
the trot, and live in a state militant with the house- 
hold. 

The hostess got into a fume. I should observe that 
she was a brisk, coquettish woman ; a little of a shrew, 
and something of a slammerkin, but very pretty withal ; 
with a nincompoop for a husband, as shrews are apt 
to have. She rated the servants roundly for their negli- 
gence in sending up so bad a breakfast, but said not a 
word against the stout gentleman; by which I clearly 
perceived that he must be a man of consequence, en- 
titled to make a noise and to give trouble at a country 
inn. Other eggs, and ham, and bread and butter were 
sent up. They appeared to be more graciously received ; 
at least there was no further complaint. 

I had not made many turns about the travelers'- 
room, when there was another ringing. Shortly after- 
wards there was a stir and an inquest about the house. 
The stout gentleman wanted the Times or the Chronicle 
newspaper. I set him down, therefore, for a whig; or 
rather, from his being so absolute and lordly where he 
had a chance, I suspected him of being a radical. Hunt, 
I had heard, was a large man; "who knows," thought 
I, "but it is Hunt himself!" 

My curiosity began to be awakened. I inquired of 
the waiter who was this stout gentleman that was mak- 
ing all this stir; but I could get no information : nobody 
seemed to know his name. The landlords of bustling 
inns seldom trouble their heads about the names or 
occupations of their transient guests. The color of a 
coat, the shape or size of the person, is enough to sug- 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 35 

gest a traveling name. It is either the tall gentleman, 
or the short gentleman, or the gentleman in black, or 
the gentleman in snuff-color; or, as in the present in- 
stance, the stout gentleman. A designation of the kind 
once hit on answers every purpose, and saves all further 
inquiry. 

Rain — rain — rain ! pitiless, ceaseless rain! No 
such thing as putting a foot out of doors, and no occu- 
pation nor amusement within. By and by I heard some 
one walking over head. It was in the stout gentleman's 
room. He evidently was a large man by the heaviness 
of his tread; and an old man from his wearing such 
creaking soles. "He is doubtless," thought I, "some 
rich old square-toes of regular habits, and is now taking 
exercise after breakfast." 

I now read all the advertisements of coaches and 
hotels that were stuck about the mantel-piece. The 
Ladys Magazine had become an abomination to me; 
it was as tedious as the day itself. I wandered out, not 
knowing what to do, and ascended again to my room. 
I had not been there long, when there was a squall 
from a neighboring bedroom. A door opened and 
slammed violently; a chambermaid, that I had re- 
marked for having a ruddy, good-humored face, went 
down stairs in a violent flurry. The stout gentleman 
had been rude to her ! 

This sent a whole host of my deductions to the deuce 
in a moment. This unknown personage could not be 
an old gentleman ; for old gentlemen are not apt to be 
so obstreperous to chambermaids. He could not be a 
young gentleman ; for young gentlemen are not apt to 
inspire such indignation. He must be a middle-aged 
man, and confounded ugly into the bargain, or the girl 



S6 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

would not have taken the matter in such terrible 
dudgeon. I confess I was sorely puzzled. 

In a few minutes I heard the voice of my landlady. 
I caught a glance of her as she came tramping up stairs ; 
her face glowing, her cap flaring, her tongue wagging 
the whole way. "She'd have no such doings in her 
house, she'd warrant. If gentlemen did spend money 
freely, it was no rule. She'd have no servant maids of 
hers treated in that way, when they were about their 
work, that's what she would n't." 

As I hate squabbles, particularly with women, and 
above all with pretty women, I slunk back into my 
room, and partly closed the door; but my curiosity was 
too much excited not to listen. The landlady marched 
intrepidly to the enemy's citadel, and entered it with 
a storm: the door closed after her. I heard her voice 
in high windy clamor for a moment or two. Then it 
gradually subsided, like a gust of wind in a garret; 
then there was a laugh; then I heard nothing more. 

After a little while my landlady came out with an 
odd smile on her face, adjusting her cap, which was a 
little on one side. As she went down stairs I heard the 
landlord ask her what was the matter; she said, "No- 
thing at all, only the girl's a fool." — I was more than 
ever perplexed what to make of this unaccountable 
personage, who could put a good-natured chamber- 
maid in a passion, and send away a termagant land- 
lady in smiles. He could not be so old, nor cross, nor 
ugly either. 

I had to go to work at his picture again, and to paint 
him entirely different. I now set him down for one of 
those stout gentlemen that are frequently met with 
swaggering about the doors of country inns. Moist, 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 37 

merry fellows, in Belcher handkerchiefs, whose bulk 
is a little assisted by malt-liquors. Men who have seen 
the world, and been sworn at Highgate; who are used 
to tavern life; up to all the tricks of tapsters, and know- 
ing in the ways of sinful publicans. Free-livers on a 
small scale; who are prodigal within the compass of 
a guinea ; who call all the waiters by name, touzle the 
maids, gossip with the landlady at the bar, and prose 
over a pint of port, or a glass of negus, after dinner. 
The morning wore away in forming these and sim- 
ilar surmises. As fast as I wove one system of belief, 
some movement of the unknown would completely 
overturn it, and throw all my thoughts again into con- 
fusion. Such are the solitary operations of a feverish 
mind. I was, as I have said, extremely nervous; and 
the continual meditation on the concerns of this invisi- 
ble personage began to have its effect :. — I was getting 
a fit of the fidgets. 

Dinner-time came. I hoped the stout gentleman 
might dine in the travelers '-room, and that I might at 
length get a view of his person; but no — he had din- 
ner served in his own room. What could be the mean- 
ing of this solitude and mystery ? He could not be a 
radical ; there was something too aristocratical in thus 
keeping himself apart from the rest of the world, and 
condemning himself to his own dull company through- 
out a rainy day. And then, too, he lived too well for a 
discontented politician. He seemed to expatiate on a 
variety of dishes, and to sit over his wine like a jolly 
friend of good living. Indeed, my doubts on this head 
were soon at an end; for he could not have finished 
his first bottle before I could faintly hear him hum- 
ming a tune; and on listening, I found it to be "God 



38 BRACEBIIIDGE HALL 

save the King." 'T was plain, then, he was no radical, 
but a faithful subject; one who grew loyal over his 
bottle, and was ready to stand by king and constitu- 
tion, when he could stand by nothing else. But who 
could he be ! My conjectures began to run wild. Was 
he not some personage of distinction traveling incog. ? 
" God knows !'* said I, at my wit's end ; " it may be one 
of the royal family for aught I know, for they are all 
stout gentlemen!" 

The weather continued rainy. The mysterious un- 
known kept his room, and, as far as I could judge, his 
chair, for I did not hear him move. In the meantime, 
as the day advanced, the travelers'-room began to be 
frequented. Some, who had just arrived, came in but- 
toned up in box-coats ; others came home who had been 
dispersed about the town. Some took their dinners, 
and some their tea. Had I been in a different mood, 
I should have found entertainment in studying this 
peculiar class of men. There were two especially, who 
were regular wags of the road, and up to all the stand- 
ing jokes of travelers. They had a thousand sly things 
to say to the waiting-maid, whom they called Louisa, 
and Ethelinda, and a dozen other fine names, changing 
the name every time, and chuckling amazingly at their 
own waggery. My mind, however, had become com- 
pletely engrossed by the stout gentleman. He had kept 
my fancy in chase during a long day, and it was not 
now to be diverted from the scent. 

The evening gradually wore away. The travelers 
read the papers two or three times over. Some drew 
round the fire and told long stories about their horses, 
about their adventures, their overturns, and breakings 
down. Thev discussed the credit of different merchants 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 39 

and different inns ; and the two wags told several choice 
anecdotes of pretty chambermaids, and kind land- 
ladies. All this passed as they were quietly taking what 
they called their night-caps, that is to say, strong glasses 
of brandy and water and sugar, or some other mixture 
of the kind; after which they one after another rang 
for "Boots" and the chambermaid, and walked off to 
bed in old shoes cut down into marvelously uncomfort- 
able slippers. 

There was now only one man left; a short-legged, 
long-bodied, plethoric fellow, with a very large, sandy 
head. He sat by himself, with a glass of port wine 
negus, and a spoon ; sipping and stirring, and meditat- 
ing and sipping, until nothing was left but the spoon. 
He gradually fell asleep bolt upright in his chair, with 
the empty glass standing before him; and the candle 
seemed to fall asleep too, for the wick grew long, and 
black, and cabbaged at the end, and dimmed the little 
light that remained in the chamber. The gloom that 
now prevailed was contagious. Around hung the shape- 
less, and almost spectral, box-coats of departed trav- 
elers, long since buried in deep sleep. I only heard the 
ticking of the clock, with the deep-drawn breathings 
of the sleeping topers, and the drippings of the rain, 
drop — drop — drop, from the eaves of the house. 
The church bells chimed midnight. All at once the 
stout gentleman began to walk over head, pacing slowly 
backwards and forwards. There was something ex- 
tremely awful in all this, especially to one in my state 
of nerves. These ghastly great-coats, these guttural 
breathings, and the creaking footsteps of this myste- 
rious being. His steps grew fainter and fainter, and 
at length died away. I could bear it no longer. I was 



40 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

wound up to the desperation of a hero of romance. 
"Be he who or what he may," said I to myself, "I'll 
have a sight of him !" I seized a chamber candle, and 
hurried up to No. 13. The door stood ajar. I hesitated 
— I entered: the room was deserted. There stood a 
large, broad-bottomed elbow-chair at a table, on which 
was an empty tumbler, and a Times newspaper, and 
the room smelt powerfully of Stilton cheese. 

The mysterious stranger had evidently but just re- 
tired. I turned off, sorely disappointed, to my room, 
which had been changed to the front of the house. As 
I went along the corridor, I saw a large pair of boots, 
with dirty, waxed tops, standing at the door of a bed- 
chamber. They doubtless belonged to the unknown; 
but it would not do to disturb so redoubtable a person- 
age in his den; he might discharge a pistol, or some- 
thing worse, at my head. I went to bed, therefore, and 
lay awake half the night in a terribly nervous state; 
and even when I fell asleep, I was still haunted in my 
dreams by the idea of the stout gentleman and his wax- 
topped boots. 

I slept rather late the next morning, and was awak- 
ened by some stir and bustle in the house, which I could 
not at first comprehend; until getting more awake, I 
found there was a mail coach starting from the door. 
Suddenly there was a cry from below, "The gentle- 
man has forgot his umbrella ! look for the gentleman's 
umbrella in No. 13 !" I heard an immediate scamper- 
ing of a chambermaid along the passage, and a shrill 
reply as she ran, "Here it is! here's the gentleman's 
umbrella!" 

The mysterious stranger then was on the point of 
setting off. This was the only chance I should ever have 



THE FARM-HOUSE 41 

of knowing him. I sprang out of bed, scrambled to the 
window, snatched aside the curtains, and just caught 
a gHmpse of the rear of a person getting in at the coach- 
door. The skirts of a brown coat parted behind, and 
gave me a full view of the broad disk of a pair of drab 
breeches. The door closed — "all right!" was the 
word — the coach whirled off: — and that was all I 
ever saw of the stout gentleman ! 

THE FARM-HOUSE 

I WAS so much pleased with the anecdotes which 
were told me of Ready- Money Jack Tibbets, that I got 
Master Simon, a day or two since, to take me to his 
house. It was an old-fashioned farm-house, built of 
brick, with curiously twisted chimneys. It stood at a 
little distance from the road, with a southern exposure, 
looking upon a soft, green slope of meadow. There 
was a small garden in front, with a row of beehives 
humming among beds of sweet herbs and flowers. 
Well-scoured milking-tubs, with bright copper hoops, 
hung on the garden paling. Fruit trees were trained 
up against the cottage, and pots of flowers stood in the 
windows. A fat, superannuated mastiff lay in the sun- 
shine at the door; with a sleek cat sleeping peacefully 
across him. 

Mr. Tibbets was from home at the time of our call- 
ing, but we were received with hearty and homely wel- 
come by his wife; a notable, motherly woman, and a 
complete pattern for wives; since, according to Master 
Simon's account, she never contradicts honest Jack, 
and yet manages to have her own way, and to control 
him in every thing. 



42 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

She received us in the main room of the house, a kind 
of parlor and hall, with great brown beams of timber 
across it, which Mr. Tibbets is apt to point out with 
some exultation, observing, that they don't put such 
timber in houses now-a-days. The furniture was old 
fashioned, strong, and highly i)olished ; tlie walls were 
hung with colored prints of the story of the Prodigal 
Son, who was represented in a red coat and leather 
breeches. Over the fireplace was a blunderbuss, and a 
hard-favored likeness of Ready- Money Jack, taken, 
when he was a young man, by the same artist that 
painted the tavern sign; his mother having taken a 
notion that the Tibbets had as much right to have a 
gallery of family portraits as the folks at the Hall. 

The good dame pressed us very much to take some 
refreshment, and tempted us with a variety of house- 
hold dainties, so that we were glad to compound by 
tasting some of her home-made wines. While we were 
there, the son and heir- apparent came home; a good- 
looking young fellow, and something of a rustic beau. 
He took us over the premises, and showed us the whole 
establishment. An air of homely but substantial plenty 
prevailed throughout; every thing was of the best ma- 
terials, and in the best condition. Nothing was out of 
place, or ill made; and you saw every where the signs 
of a man who took care to have the worth of his money, 
and paid as he went. 

The farm-yard was well-stocked ; under a shed was 
a taxed cart, in trim order, in which Ready-Money 
Jack took his wife about the country. His well-fed 
horse neighed from the stable, and when led out into 
the yard, to use the words of young Jack, "he shone 
like a bottle"; for he said the old man made it a rule 



THE FARM-HOUSE 43 

that every thing about him should fare as well as he 
did himself. 

I was pleased to see the pride which the young fellow 
seemed to have of his father. He gave us several par- 
ticulars concerning his habits, which were pretty much 
to the effect of those I have already mentioned. He 
had never suffered an account to stand in his life, al- 
ways providing the money before he purchased any 
thing; and, if possible, paying in gold and silver. He 
had a great dislike to paper money, and seldom went 
without a considerable sum in gold al)out him. On my 
observing that it was a wonder he had never been way- 
laid and robbed, the young fellow smiled at the idea 
of any one venturing upon such an exploit, for I be- 
lieve he thinks the old man would be a match for Robin 
Hood and all his o^anc^. 

I have noticed that Master Simon seldom goes into 
any house without having a world of private talk with 
some one or other of the family, being a kind of uni- 
versal counselor and confidant. We had not been long 
at the farm, before the old dame got him into a corner 
of her parlor, where they had a long, whispering con- 
ference together; in which I saw by his shrugs that 
there were some dubious matters discussed, and by his 
nods that he agreed with every thing she said. 

After we had come out, the young man accompanied 
us a little distance, and then, drawing Master Simon 
aside into a green lane, they walked and talked together 
for nearly half an hour. Master Simon, who has the 
usual propensity of confidants to blab every thing to 
the next friend they meet with, let me know that there 
was a love affair in question ; the young fellow having 
been smitten with the charms of Phoebe Wilkins, the 



44 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

pretty niece of the housekeeper at the Hall. Like most 
other love concerns, it had brought its troubles and per- 
plexities. Dame Tibbets had lonp; been on intimate, 
gossiping terms with the housekeeper, who often 
visited the farm-house; but when the neighbors spoke 
to her of the likelihood of a match between her son 
and Phoebe Wilkins, "Marry come up!" she scouted 
the very idea. The girl had acted as lady's maid, and 
it was beneath the blood of the Tibbets, who had lived 
on their own lands time out of mind, and owed rever- 
ence and thanks to nobody, to have the heir-apparent 
marry a servant! 

These vaporings had faithfully been carried to the 
housekeeper's ear, by one of their mutual, go-between 
friends. The old housekeeper's blood, if not as an- 
cient, w^as as quick as that of Dame Tibbets. She had 
been accustomed to carry a high head at the Hall, and 
among the villagers; and her faded brocade rustled 
with indignation at the slight cast upon her alliance by 
the wife of a petty farmer. She maintained that her 
niece had been a companion rather than a waiting- 
maid to the young ladies. "Thank heavens, she was 
not obliged to work for her living, and was as idle as 
any young lady in the land ; and when somebody died, 
w^ould receive something that would be worth the notice 
of some folks, with all their ready money." 

A bitter feud had thus taken place between the two 
worthy dames, and the young people were forbidden 
to think of one another. As to young Jack, he was too 
much in love to reason upon the matter; and being a 
little heady, and not standing in much awe of his mother, 
was ready to sacrifice the whole dignity of the Tibbets 
to his passion. He had lately, however, had a violent 



FALCONJIY 45 

quarrel with his mistress, in consequence of some co- 
quetry on her part, and at present stood aloof. The 
poHtic mother was exerting all her ingenuity to widen 
this accidental breach; but, as is most commonly the 
case, the more she meddled with this perverse incli- 
nation of her son, the stronger it grew. In the mean- 
time Old Ready-Money was kept completely in the 
dark; both parties were in awe and uncertainty as to 
what might be his way of taking the matter, and dreaded 
to awaken the sleeping lion. Between father and son, 
therefore, the worthy Mrs. Tibbets was full of busi- 
ness, and at her wit's end. It is true there was no great 
danger of honest Ready-Money's finding the thing out, 
if left to himself, for he was of a most unsuspicious 
temper, and by no means quick of apprehension; but 
there was daily risk of his attention being aroused 
by those cobwebs which his indefatigable wife was 
continually spinning about his nose. 

Such is the distracted state of politics in the domes- 
tic empire of Ready-Money Jack; which only shows 
the intrigues and internal dangers to which the best 
regulated governments are liable. In this perplexed 
situation of their affairs, both mother and son have 
applied to Master Simon for counsel; and, with all his 
experience in meddling with other people's concerns, 
he finds it an exceedingly difficult part to play, to 
agree with both parties, seeing that their opinions and 
wishes are so diametrically opposite. 

FALCONRY 

There are several grand sources of lamentation fur- 
nished to the worthy Squire, by the improvement of 



46 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

society, and the grievous advancement of knowledge; 
among which none, I beHeve, causes him more fre- 
quent regret than the unfortunate invention of gun- 
powder. To this he continually traces the decay of 
some favorite custom, and, indeed, the general down- 
fall of all chivalrous and romantic usa(j:es. "EnHish 
soldiers," he says, " have never been the men they were 
in the days of the cross-bow and the long-bow; when 
they depended upon the strength of the arm, and the 
English archer could draw a cloth-yard shaft to the 
head. These were the times when, at the battles of 
Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt, the French chivalry 
was completely destroyed by the bowmen of England. 
The yeomanry, too, have never been what they were, 
when, in times of peace, they were constantly exercised 
with the bow, and archery was a favorite holiday pas- 
time," 

Among the other evils which have followed in the 
train of this fatal invention of gunpowder, the Squire 
classes the total decline of the noble art of falconry. 
" Shooting," he says, " is a skulking, treacherous, soli- 
tary sport in comparison ; but hawking was a gallant, 
open, sunshiny recreation; it was the generous sport 
of hunting carried into the skies." 

"It was, moreover," he says, "according to Braith- 
waite, the stately amusement of ' high and mounting 
spirits ' ; for, as the old Welsh proverb affirms, in those 
times 'you might know a gentleman by his hawk, 
horse, and greyhound/ Indeed, a cavalier was seldom 
seen abroad without his hawk on his fist ; and even a 
lady of rank did not think herself completely equipped, 
in riding forth, unless she had her tassel-gentel held by 
jesses on her delicate hand. It was thought in those 



FALCONRY 47 

excellent days, according to an old writer, 'quite suf- 
ficient for noblemen to winde their horn, and to carry 
their hawke fair; and leave study and learning to the 
children of mean people.'" 

Knowing the good Squire's hobby, therefore, I have 
not been surprised at finding that, among the various 
recreations of former times which he has endeavored 
to revive in the little world in which he rules, he has 
bestowed great attention on the noble art of falconry. 
In this he, of course, has been seconded by his inde- 
fatigable coadjutor. Master Simon; and even the par- 
son has thrown considerable light on their labors, by 
various hints on the subject, which he has met with 
in old English works. As to the precious work of that 
famous dame, Juliana Barnes ; the Gentleman s Acad- 
emie, by Markham; and the other well-known trea- 
tises that were the manuals of ancient sportsmen, they 
have them at their fingers' ends; but they have more 
especially studied some old tapestry in the house, 
whereon is represented a party of cavaliers and stately 
dames, with doublets, caps, and flaunting feathers, 
mounted on horse, with attendants on foot, all in ani- 
mated pursuit of the game. 

The Squire has discountenanced the killing of any 
hawks in his neighborhood, but gives a liberal bounty 
for all that are brought him alive; so that the Hall is 
well stocked with all kinds of birds of prey. On these 
he and Master Simon have exhausted their patience 
and ingenuity, endeavoring to "reclaim" them, as it is 
termed, and to train them up for the sport ; but they have 
met with continual checks and disappointments. Their 
feathered school has turned out the most untractable 
and graceless scholars : nor is it the least of their labor 



48 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

to drill the retainers who were to act as ushers under 
them, and to take immediate charge of these refractory 
birds. Old Christy and the gamekeeper both, for a time, 
set their faces against the whole plan of education; 
Christy having been nettled at hearing what he terms 
a wild-goose chase put on a par with a fox-hunt; and 
the gamekeeper having always been accustomed to look 
upon hawks as arrant poachers, which it was his duty 
to shoot down, and nail, i?i icrrorcm, against the out- 
houses. 

Christy has at length taken the matter in hand, but 
has done still more mischief by his intermeddling. 
He is as positive and wrong-headed about this, as he is 
about hunting. Master Simon has continual disputes 
with him as to feeding and training the hawks. He reads 
to him long passages from the old authors I have men- 
tioned; but Christy, who cannot read, has a sovereign 
contempt for all book-knowledge, and persists in treat- 
ing the hawks according to his own notions, which are 
drawn from his experience, in younger days, in the 
rearing of game-cocks. 

The consequence is, that, between these jarring 
systems, the poor birds have had a most trying and 
unhappy time of it. Many have fallen victims to Chris- 
ty's feeding and Master Simon's physicking; for the 
latter has gone to work secundcm artcm, and has given 
them all the vomitings and scourings laid down in the 
books; never were poor hawks so fed and physicked 
before. Others have been lost by being but half "re- 
claimed," or tamed : for on being taken into the field, 
they have "raked" after the game quite out of hear- 
ing of the call, and never returned to school. 

All these disappointments had been petty, yet sore 



FALCONRY 49 

grievances to the Squire, and had made him to despond 
about success. He has lately, however, been made 
happy by the receipt of a fine Welsh falcon, which 
Master Simon terms a stately highflyer. It is a present 
from the Squire's friend. Sir Watkyn Williams WVnne; 
and is, no doubt, a descendant of some ancient line of 
Welsh princes of the air, that have long lorded it over 
their kingdom of clouds, from Wynnstay to the very 
summit of Snowden, or the brow of Penmanmawr. 

Ever since the Squire received this invaluable pre- 
sent, he has been as impatient to sally forth and make 
proof of it, as was Don Quixote to assay his suit of ar- 
mor. There have been some demurs as to whether the 
bird was in proper health and training ; but these have 
been overruled by the vehement desire to play with a 
new toy; and it has been determined, right or wrong, 
in season or out of season, to have a day's sport in 
hawking to-morrow. 

The Hall, as usual, whenever the Squire is about 
to make some new sally on his hobby, is all agog with 
the thing. Miss Templeton, who is brought up in rev- 
erence for all her guardian's humors, has proposed 
to be of the party, and Lady Lillycraft has talked also 
of riding out to the scene of action and looking on. 
This has gratified the old gentleman extremely; he 
hails it as an auspicious omen of the revival of fal- 
conry, and does not despair but the time will come when 
it will be again the pride of a fine lady to carry about 
a noble falcon in preference to a parrot or a lap-dog. 

I have amused myself with the bustling preparations 
of that busy spirit. Master Simon, and the continual 
thwartings he receives from that genuine son of a pep- 
per-box, old Christy. They have had half a dozen con- 



50 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

sultations about how the hawk is to be prepared for 
the morning's sport. Old Nimrod, as usual, has always 
got in a pet, upon which Master Simon has invariably 
given up the point, observing, in a good-humored tone, 
" Well, well, have it your own way, Christy; only don't 
put yourself in a passion" ; a reply which always nettles 
the old man ten times more than ever. 

HAWKING 

At an early hour this morning the Hall was in a 
bustle, preparing for the sport of the day. I heard 
Master Simon whistling and singing under my win- 
dow at sunrise, as he was preparing the jesses for the 
hawk's legs, and could distinguish now and then a 
stanza of one of his favorite old ditties : — 

"In peascod time, when hound to horn 
Gives note that buck be kill'd; 
And Httle boy with pipe of corn 
Is tending sheep a-field," etc. 

A hearty breakfast, well flanked by cold meats, was 
served up in the great hall. The whole garrison of re- 
tainers and hangers-on were in motion, reinforced by 
volunteer idlers from the village. The horses were led 
up and down before the door ; every body had some- 
thing to say, and something to do, and hurried hither 
and thither ; there was a direful yelping of dogs ; some 
that were to accompany us being eager to set off, and 
others that were to stay at home being whipped back 
to their kennels. In short, for once, the good Squire's 
mansion might have been taken as a good specimen 
of one of the rantipole establishments of the good old 
feudal times. 



HAWKING 51 

Breakfast being finished, the chivalry of the Hall pre- 
pared to take the field. The fair Julia was of the party, 
in a hunting-dress, with a light plume of feathers in her 
riding-hat. As she mounted her favorite galloway, I 
remarked, with pleasure, that old Christy forgot his 
usual crustiness, and hastened to adjust her saddle 
and bridle. He touched his cap as she smiled on him 
and thanked him ; and then, looking round at the other 
attendants, gave a knowing nod of his head, in which 
I read pride and exultation at the charming appear- 
ance of his pupil. 

Lady Lillycraft had likewise determined to witness 
the sport. She was dressed in her broad white beaver, 
tied under the chin, and a riding-habit of the last 
century. She rode her sleek, ambling pony, whose mo- 
tion was as easy as a rocking-chair, and was gallantly 
escorted by the general, who looked not unlike one of 
the doughty heroes in the old prints of the battle of 
Blenheim. The parson, likewise, accompanied her on 
the other side; for this was a learned amusement in 
which he took great interest; and indeed, had given 
much counsel, from his knowledge of old customs. 

At length every thing was arranged, and off we set 
from the Hall, The exercise on horseback puts one 
in fine spirits; and the scene was gay and animating. 
The young men of the family accompanied Miss Tem- 
pleton. She sat lightly and gracefully in her saddle, her 
plumes dancing and waving in the air; and the group 
had a charming effect as they appeared and disap- 
peared among the trees, cantering along, with the 
bounding animation of youth. The Squire and Master 
Simon rode together, accompanied by old Christy, 
mounted on Pepper. The latter bore the hawk on his 



52 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

fist, as he insisted the bird was most accustomed to 
him. There was a rabble rout on foot, composed of 
retainers from the Hall, and some idlers from the vil- 
lage, with two or three spaniels, for the purpose of 
starting the game. 

A kind of corps de reserve came on quietly in the 
rear, composed of Lady Lillycraft, General Harbottle, 
the parson, and a fat footman. Her ladyship ambled 
gently along on her pony, while the general, mounted 
on a tall hunter, looked down upon her with an air of 
the most protecting gallantry. 

For my part, being no sportsman, I kept with this 
last party, or rather lagged behind, that I might take 
in the whole picture; and the parson occasionally 
slackened his pace and jogged on in company with me. 

The sport led us at some distance from the Hall, in 
a soft meadow, reeking with the moist verdure of 
spring. A little river ran through it, bordered by wil- 
lows, which had put forth their tender early foliage. 
The sportsmen were in quest of herons which were 
said to keep about this stream. 

There was some disputing, already, among the lead- 
ers of the sport. The Squire, Master Simon, and old 
Christy, came every now and then to a pause, to con- 
sult together, like the field-officers in an army; and I 
saw, by certain motions of the head, that Christy was 
as positive as any old wrong-headed German com- 
mander. 

As we were prancing up this quiet meadow every 
sound we made was answered by a distinct echo from 
the sunny wall of an old building on the opposite mar- 
gin of the stream ; and I paused to listen to this " spirit 
of a sound," which seems to love such quiet and beau- 



HAWKING 53 

tiful places. The parson informed me that this was 
the ruin of an ancient grange, and was supposed, by 
the country people, to be haunted by a dobbie, a kind 
of rural sprite, something like Robin Good-fellow. 
They often fancied the echo to be the voice of the dob- 
bie answering them, and were rather shy of disturbing 
it after dark. He added, that the Squire was very care- 
ful of this ruin, on account of the superstition connected 
with it. As I considered this local habitation of an 
"airy nothing," I called to mind the fine description 
of an echo in Webster's Duchess of Maify : 

" Yond side o' th' river lies a wall. 

Piece of a cloister, which in my opinion 
Gives the best echo that you ever heard: 
So plain is the distinction of our words, 
That many have supposed it a spirit 
That answers." 

The parson went on to comment on a pleasing and 
fanciful appellation which the Jews of old gave to the 
echo, which they called Bath-kool, that is to say, "the 
daughter of the voice"; they considered it an oracle, 
supplying in the second temple the want of the urim 
and thummim, with which the first was honored. The 
little man was just entering very largely and learn- 
edly upon the subject, w^hen we were started by a pro- 
digious bawling, shouting, and yelping. A flight of 
crows, alarmed by the approach of our forces, had sud- 
denly rose from a meadow ; a cry was put up by the rab- 
ble rout on foot. " Now, Christy ! now is your time, 
Christy!" The Squire and Master Simon, who were 
beating up the river banks in quest of a heron, called 
out eagerly to Christy to keep quiet; the old man, 
vexed and bewildered by the confusion of voices, com- 



54 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

pletely lost his head; in his flurry he sHpped off the 
hood, cast off the falcon, and away flew the crows, and 
away soared the hawk. 

I had paused on a rising ground, close to Lady Lilly- 
craft and her escort, whence I had a good view of the 
sport. I was pleased with the appearance of the party 
in the meadow, riding along in the direction that the 
bird flew; their bright beaming faces turned up to the 
bright skies as they w^atched the game ; the attendants 
on foot scampering along, looking up, and calling out; 
and the dogs bounding and yelping with clamorous 
sympathy. 

The hawk had singled out a quarry from among the 
carrion crew. It was curious to see the efl'orts of the 
two birds to get above each other; one to make the 
fatal swoop, the other to avoid it. Now they crossed 
athwart a bright feathery cloud, and now they were 
against a clear blue sky. I confess, being no sports- 
man, I was more interested for the poor bird that was 
striving for its life, than for the hawk that was playing 
the part of a mercenary soldier. At length the hawk 
got the upper hand, and made a rushing stoop at her 
quarry, but the latter made as sudden a surge down- 
wards, and slanting up again, evaded the blow, scream- 
ing and making the best of his way for a dry tree on 
the brow of a neighboring hill; while the haw^k, disap- 
pointed of her blow, soared up again into the air, and 
appeared to be " raking" off. It was in vain old Christy 
called, and whistled, and endeavored to lure her down; 
she paid no regard to him: and, indeed, his calls were 
drowned in the shouts and yelps of the army of militia 
that had followed him into the field. 

Just then an exclamation from Lady Lillycraft made 



HAWKING 55 

me turn my head. I beheld a complete confusion 
among the sportsmen in the little vale below us. They 
were galloping and running towards the edge of a 
bank; and I was shocked to see Miss Templeton's 
horse galloping at large without his rider. I rode to 
the place to which the others were hurrying, and when 
I reached the bank, which almost overhung the stream, 
I saw at the foot of it, the fair Julia, pale, bleeding, 
and apparently lifeless, supported in the arms of her 
frantic lover. 

In galloping heedlessly along, with her eyes turned 
upward, she had unwarily approached too near the 
bank ; it had given way with her, and she and her horse 
had been precipitated to the pebbled margin of the 
river. 

I never saw greater consternation. The captain was 
distracted ; Lady Lillycraft fainting, the Squire in dis- 
may, and Master Simon at his wit's ends. The beauti- 
ful creature at length showed signs of returning life; 
she opened her eyes ; looked around her upon the anx- 
ious group, and comprehending in a moment the nature 
of the scene, gave a sweet smile, and putting her hand 
in her lover's, exclaimed feebly, " I am not much hurt, 
Guy!" I could have taken her to my heart for that 
single exclamation. 

It was found, indeed, that she had escaped almost 
miraculously, with a contusion of the head, a sprained 
ankle, and some slight bruises. After her wound was 
stanched, she was taken to a neighboring cottage, until 
a carriage could be summoned to convey her home; 
and when this had arrived, the cavalcade, which had 
issued forth so gayly on this enterprise, returned slowly 
and pensively to the Hall. 



56 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

I had been charmed by the generous spirit shown 
by this young creature, who, amidst pain and danger, 
had been anxious only to reheve the distress of those 
around her. I was gratified, therefore, by the universal 
concern displayed by the domestics on our return. 
They came crowding doM n the avenue, each eager to 
render assistance. The butler stood ready with some 
curiously delicate cordial; the old housekeeper was 
provided with half a dozen nostrums, prepared by her 
own hands, according to the family receipt-book; 
while her niece, the melting Phoebe, having no other 
way of assisting, stood wringing her hands, and weep- 
ing aloud. 

The most material effect that is likely to follow this 
accident, is a postponement of the nuptials, which were 
close at hand. Though 1 commiserate the imj)atience 
of the captain on that account, yet I shall not otherwise 
be sorry at the delay, as it will give me a better oppor- 
tunity of studying the characters here assembled, with 
which I grow more and more entertained. 

I cannot but perceive that the worthy Squire is 
quite disconcerted at the unlucky result of his hawking 
experiment, and this unfortunate illustration of his 
eulogy on female equitation. Old Christy, too, is very 
waspish, having been sorely twitted by Master Simon 
for having let his hawk fly at carrion. As to the falcon, 
in the confusion occasioned by the fair Julia's disaster, 
the bird was totally forgotten. I make no doubt she 
has made the best of her way back to the hospitable 
hall of Sir Watkyn ^Yilliams Wynne; and may very 
possibly, at this present writing, be pluming her wings 
among the breezy bowers of Wynnstay. 



FORTUNE-TELLING 67 

FORTUNE-TELLING 

As I was walking one evening with the Oxonian, 
Master Simon, and the general, in a meadow not far 
from the village, w^e heard the sound of a fiddle, rudely 
played, and looking in the direction whence it came, 
we saw a thread of smoke curling up from among the 
trees. The sound of music is always attractive; for, 
wherever there is music, there is good humor, or good- 
will. We passed along a footpath, and had a peep, 
through a break in the hedge, at the musician and 
his party, when the Oxonian gave us a wink, and told 
us that if we would follow him we should have some 
sport. 

It proved to he a gipsy encampment, consisting of 
three or four little cabins, or tents, made of blankets 
and sail-cloth, spread over hoops stuck in the ground. 
It was on one side of a green lane, close under a haw- 
thorn hedge, with a broad beech-tree spreading above 
it. A small rill tinkled along close by, through the fresh 
sward, that looked like a carpet. 

A tea-kettle was hanging by a crooked piece of iron, 
over a fire made from dry sticks and leaves, and two 
old gipsies, in red cloaks, sat crouched on the grass, 
gossiping over their evening cup of tea ; for these crea- 
tures, though they live in the open air, have their ideas 
of fireside comforts. There were two or three children 
sleeping on the straw with which the tents were littered ; 
a couple of donkeys were grazing in the lane, and a 
thievish-looking dog was lying before the fire. Some 
of the younger gipsies were dancing to the music of a 
fiddle, played by a tall, slender stripling, in an old frock 
coat, with a peacock'^ feather stuck in his hat-band. 



58 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

As we approached, a gipsy girl, with a pair of fine 
roguish eyes, came up, and, as usual, otl'ered to tell our 
fortunes. I could not but admire a certain degree of 
slattern elegance about the baggage. Her long black 
silken hair was curiously plaited in numerous small 
braids, and negligently put up in a picturesque style 
that a painter might have been proud to have devised. 
Her dress was of figured chintz, rather ragged, and not 
over clean, but of a variety of most harmonious and 
agreeable colors; for these beings have a singularly 
fine eye for colors. Her straw hat was in her hand, and 
a red cloak thrown over one arm. 

The Oxonian offered at once to have his fortune 
told, and the girl began with the usual volubility of 
her race ; but he drew her on one side, near the hedge, 
as he said he had no idea of having his secrets over- 
heard. I saw he was talking to her instead of she to 
him, and by his glancing towards us now and then, that 
he was giving the baggage some private hints. When 
they returned to us, he assumed a very serious air. 
"Zounds!" said he, "it's very astonishing how these 
creatures come by their knowledge ; this girl has told me 
some things that I thought no one knew but myself ! '* 

The girl now assailed the general: "Come, your 
honor," said she, "I see by your face you're a lucky 
man ; but you 're not happy in your mind ; you 're not, 
indeed, sir : but have a good heart, and give me a good 
piece of silver, and I'll tell you a nice fortune." 

The general had received all her approaches with a 
banter, and had suffered her to get hold of his hand ; 
but at the mention of the piece of silver, he hemmed, 
looked grave, and turning to us, asked if w^e had not 
better continue our walk. " Come, my master," said the 



FORTUNE-TELLING 59 

girl, archly, "you'd not be in such a hurry, if you 
knew all that I could tell you about a fair lady that has 
a notion for you. Come, sir, old love burns strong; 
there 's many a one comes to see weddings that go away 
brides themselves!" — Here the girl whispered some- 
thing in a low voice, at which the general colored up, 
was a little fluttered, and suffered himself to be drawn 
aside under the hedge, where he appeared to listen to 
her with great earnestness, and at the end paid her 
half-a-crown with the air of a man that has got the 
worth of his money. 

The girl next made her attack upon Master Simon, 
who, however, was too old a bird to be caught, knowing 
that it would end in an attack upon his purse, about 
which he is a little sensitive. As he has a great notion, 
however, of being considered a royster, he chucked her 
under the chin, played her off with rather broad jokes, 
and put on something of the rake-helly air, that we see 
now and then assumed on the stage, by the sad-boy 
gentlemen of the old school. "Ah, your honor," said 
the girl, with a malicious leer, "you were not in such 
a tantrum last year, when I told you about the widow 
you know who; but if you had taken a friend's advice, 
you'd never have come away from Doncaster races 
with a flea in your ear!" 

There was a secret sting in this speech that seemed 
quite to disconcert Master Simon. He jerked away his 
hand in a pet, smacked his whip, whistled to his dogs, 
and intimated that it was high time to go home. The 
girl, however, was determined not to lose her harvest. 
She now turned upon me, and, as I have a weakness 
of spirit where there is a pretty face concerned, she 
soon wheedled me out of my money, and, in return, 



60 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

read me a fortune; which, if it prove true, and I am 
determined to beheve it, will make me one of the luck- 
iest men in the clironicles of Cupid. 

I saw that the Oxonian was at the bottom of all this 
oracular mystery, and was disposed to amuse himself 
with the general, whose tender approaches to the 
widow have attracted the notice of the wag. I was a 
little curious, however, to know the meaning of the 
dark hints which had so suddenly disconcerted Master 
Simon ; and took occasion to fall in the rear with the 
Oxonian on our way home, when he laughed heartily 
at my questions, and gave me ample information on the 
subject. 

The truth of the matter is, that Master Simon has 
met with a sad rebuff since my Christmas visit to the 
Hall. He used at that time to be joked about a widow, 
a fine dashing woman, as he privately informed me. I 
had supposed the pleasure he betrayed on these occa- 
sions resulted from the usual fondness of old bachelors 
for being teased about getting married, and about 
flirting, and being fickle and false-hearted. I am 
assured, however, that Master Simon had really per- 
suaded himself the widow had a kindness for him ; in 
consequence of which he had been at some extraor- 
dinary expense in new clothes, and had actually got 
Frank Bracebridge to order him a coat from Stultz. He 
began to throw out hints about the importance of a 
man's settling himself in life before he grew old; he 
would look grave whenever the widow and matrimony 
were mentioned in the same sentence; and privately 
asked the opinion of the Squire and parson about the 
prudence of marrying a widow with a rich jointure, 
but who had several children. 



FORTUNE-TELLING 61 

An important member of a great family connection 
cannot harp much upon the theme of matrimony with- 
out its taking wind ; and it soon got buzzed about that 
Mr. Simon Bracebridge was actually gone to Doncaster 
races, with a new horse; but that he meant to return 
in a curricle with a lady by his side. Master Simon did, 
indeed, go to the races, and that with a new horse; and 
the dashing widow did make her appearance in her 
curricle; but it was unfortunately driven by a strapping 
young Irish dragoon, with whom even Master Simon's 
self-complacency would not allow him to venture into 
competition, and to whom she was married shortly 
afterwards. 

It was a matter of sore chagrin to Master Simon for 
several months, having never before been fully com- 
mitted. The dullest head in the family had a joke upon 
him ; and there is no one that likes less to be bantered 
than an absolute joker. He took refuge for a time at 
Lady Lillycraft's until the matter should blow over; 
and occupied himself by looking over her accounts, 
regulating the village choir, and inculcating loyalty 
into a pet bullfinch, by teaching him to whistle " God 
save the King." 

He has now pretty nearly recovered from the morti- 
fication ; holds up his head, and laughs as much as any 
one ; again affects to pity married men, and is particu- 
larly facetious about widows, when Lady Lillycraft is 
not by. His only time of trial is when the general gets 
hold of him, who is infinitely heavy and persevering in 
his waggery, and will interweave a dull joke through 
the various topics of a whole dinner-time. 



62 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

GIPSIES 

Since the meeting with the gipsies, which I have 
related in a former paper, I have observed several of 
them haunting the purlieus of the Hall, notwithstanding 
a positive interdiction of the Squire. They are part of 
a gang w^hich has long kept about this neighborhood 
to the great annoyance of the farmers, w^hose poultry- 
yards often suffer from their nocturnal invasions. They 
are, however, in some measure, patronized by the 
Squire, who considers the race as belonging to the good 
old times ; which, to confess the private truth, seem to 
have abounded with good-for-nothing characters. 

This roving crew is called " Star-light Tom's Gang," 
from the name of its chieftain, a notorious poacher. 
I have heard repeatedly of the misdeeds of this " minion 
of the moon"; for every midnight depredation in park, 
or fold, or farm-yard, is laid to his charge. Star-light 
Tom, in fact, answers to his name; he seems to walk 
in darkness, and, like a fox, to be traced in the morning 
by the mischief he has done. He reminds me of that 
fearful personage in the nursery rhyme: 

"Who goes round the house at night? 
None but bloody Tom! 
Who steals all the sheep at night? 
None but one by one ! " 

In short, Star-light Tom is the scape-goat of the neigh- 
borhood; but so cunning and adroit, that there is no 
detecting him. Old Christy and the game-keeper have 
watched many a night in hopes of entrapping him; 
and Christy often patrols the park with his dogs, for 
the purpose, but all in vain. It is said that the Squire 
winks hard at his misdeeds, having an indulgent feeling 



GIPSIES 63 

towards the vagabond, because of his being very expert 
at all kinds of games, a great shot with the cross-bow, 
and the best morris-dancer in the country. 

The Squire also suffers the gang to lurk unmolested 
about the skirts of his estate, on condition they do not 
come about the house. The approaching wedding, 
however, has made a kind of Saturnalia at the Hall, 
and has caused a suspension of all sober rule. It has 
produced a great sensation throughout the female 
part of the household ; not a housemaid but dreams of 
wedding favors, and has a husband running in her 
head. Such a time is a harvest for the gipsies : there is 
a public footpath leading across one part of the park, 
by which they have free ingress, and they are continually 
hovering about the grounds, telling the servant-girls' 
fortunes, or getting smuggled in to the young ladies. 

I believe the Oxonian amuses himself very much by 
furnishing them with hints in private, and bewildering 
all the weak brains in the house with their wonderful 
revelations. The general certainly was very much 
astonished by the communications made to him the 
other evening by the gipsy girl : he kept a wary silence 
towards us on the subject, and affected to treat it 
lightly ; but I have noticed that he has since redoubled 
his attentions to Lady Lillycraft and her dogs. 

I have seen also Phoebe Wilkins, the housekeeper's 
pretty and love-sick niece, holding a long conference 
with one of these old sibyls behind a large tree in the 
avenue, and often looking round to see that she was not 
observed. I make no doubt she was endeavoring to get 
some favorable augury about the result of her love- 
quarrel with young Ready-Money, as oracles have 
always been more consulted on love-affairs than upon 



64 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

any thing else. I fear, however, that in this instance 
the response was not so favorable as usual, for I per- 
ceived poor Phoebe returning pensively towards the 
house; her head hanging down, her hat in her hand, 
and the ribbon trailing along the ground. 

At another time, as I turned a corner of a terrace, 
at the bottom of the garden, just by a clump of trees, 
and a large stone urn, I came upon a bevy of the young 
girls of the family, attended by this same Phoebe Wil- 
kins. I was at a loss to comprehend the meaning of 
their blushing and giggling, and their apparent agita- 
tion, until I saw the red cloak of a gipsy vanishing 
among the shrubbery. A few moments after I caught a 
sight of Master Simon and the Oxonian stealing along 
one of the walks of the garden, chuckling and laughing 
at their successful waggery; having evidently put the 
gipsy up to the thing, and instructed her what to say. 

After all, there is something strangely pleasing in 
these tamperings with the future, even where we are 
convinced of the fallacy of the prediction. It is singular 
how willingly the mind will half deceive itself; and with 
a degree of awe we will listen even to these babblers 
about futurity. For my part, I cannot feel angry with 
these poor vagabonds, that seek to deceive us into 
bright hopes and expectations. I have always been 
something of a castle-builder, and have found my live- 
liest pleasures to arise from the illusions which fancy 
has cast over commonplace realities. As I get on in 
life, I find it more difficult to deceive myself in this 
delightful manner; and I should be thankful to any 
prophet, however false, who would conjure the clouds 
which hang over futurity into palaces, and all its doubt- 
ful regions into fairy-land. 



GIPSIES 65 

The Squire, who, as I have observed, has a private 
good-will towards gipsies, has suffered considerable 
annoyance on their account. Not that they requite his 
indulgence with ingratitude, for they do not depredate 
very flagrantly on his estate; but because their pilfer- 
ings and misdeeds occasion loud murmurs in the vil- 
lage. I can readily understand the old gentleman's 
humor on this point; I have a great toleration for all 
kinds of vagrant sunshiny existence, and must confess 
I take a pleasure in observing the ways of gipsies. The 
English, who are accustomed to them from childhood, 
and often suffer from their petty depredations, consider 
them as mere nuisances; but I have been very much 
struck with their peculiarities. I like to behold their 
clear olive complexions; their romantic black eyes; 
their raven locks; their lithe slender figures; and to 
hear them, in low silver tones, dealing forth magnifi- 
cent promises of honors and estates ; of world's wealth, 
and ladies' love. 

Their mode of life, too, has something in it very fanci- 
ful and picturesque. They are the free denizens of nature, 
and maintain a primitive independence, in spite of law 
and gospel; of county jails and country magistrates. 
It is curious to see this obstinate adherence to the wild 
unsettled habits of savage life transmitted from genera- 
tion to generation, and preserved in the midst of one 
of the most cultivated, populous, and systematic coun- 
tries in the world. They are totally distinct from the 
busy, thrifty people about them. They seem to be, like 
the Indians of America, either above or below the 
ordinary cares and anxieties of mankind. Heedless 
of power, of honors, of wealth ; and indifferent to the 
fluctuations of times ; the rise or fall of grain, or stock, 



66 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

or empires, they seem to laugh at the toiHng, fretting 
world around them, and to live according to the phi- 
losophy of the old song: 

"Who would am})ition shun, 
And loves to lie i' the sun, 
Seeking the food he eats. 
And pleased with what he gets. 
Come hither, come hither, come hither; 

Here shall he see 

No enemy. 
But winter and rough weather." 

In this way they wander from county to county; 
keeping about the purlieus of villages, or in plenteous 
neighborhoods, where there are fat farms and rich 
country-seats. Their encampments are generally made 
in some beautiful spot; either a green shady nook of 
a road ; or on the border of a common, under a shelter- 
ing hedge; or on the skirts of a fine spreading wood. 
They are always to be found lurking about fairs, and 
races, and rustic gatherings, wherever there is plea- 
sure, and throng, and idleness. They are the oracles 
of milkmaids and simple serving-girls ; and sometimes 
have even the honor of perusing the white hands of 
gentlemen's daughters, when rambling about their 
fathers' grounds. They are the bane of good house- 
wives and thrifty farmers, and odious in the eyes of 
country justices; but, like all other vagabond beings, 
they have. something to commend them to the fancy. 
They are among the last traces, in these matter-of-fact 
days, of the motley population of former times; and 
are whimsically associated in my mind with fairies and 
witches, Robin Good-fellow, Robin Hood, and the 
other fantastical personages of poetry. 



VILLAGE WORTHIES 67 

VILLAGE WORTHIES 

As the neighboring village is one of those out-of-the- 
way, but gossiping Httle places where a small matter 
makes a great stir, it is not to be supposed that the 
approach of a festival like that of May-day can be 
regarded with indifference, especially since it is made 
a matter of such moment by the great folks at the Hall. 
Master Simon, who is the faithful factotum of the 
worthy Squire, and jumps with his humor in every 
thing, is frequent just now in his visits to the village, 
to give directions for the impending fete; and as I have 
taken the liberty occasionally of accompanying him, I 
have been enabled to get some insight into the char- 
acters and internal politics of this very sagacious little 
community. 

Master Simon is in fact the Caesar of the village. It 
is true the Squire is the protecting power, but his fac- 
totum is the active and busy agent. He intermeddles 
in all its concerns; is acquainted with all the inhabit- 
ants and their domestic historv; gives counsel to the 
old folks in their business matters, and the young folks 
in their love affairs ; and enjoys the proud satisfaction 
of being a great man in a little world. 

He is the dispenser, too, of the Squire's charity, which 
is bounteous; and, to do Master Simon justice, he 
performs this part of his functions with great alacrity. 
Indeed, I have been entertained with the mixture of 
bustle, importance, and kind-heartedness which he dis- 
plays. He is of too vivacious a temperament to com- 
fort the afl3icted by sitting down moping and whining 
and blowing noses in concert ; but goes whisking about 
like a sparrow, chirping consolation into every hole and 



68 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

corner of the village. I have seen an old woman, in a 
red cloak, hold him for half an hour together with some 
long phthisical tale of distress, which Master Simon 
listened to with many a bob of the head, smack of his 
dog-whip, and other symptoms of impatience, though 
he aftersvards made a most faithful and circumstantial 
report of the case to the Squire. I have watched him, 
too, during one of his pop visits into the cottage of a 
superannuated villager, who is a pensioner of the Squire, 
where he fidgeted about the room without sitting down, 
made many excellent off-hand reflections with the old 
invalid, who was propped up in his chair, about the 
shortness of life, the certainty of death, and the neces- 
sity of preparing for "that awful change"; quoted 
several texts of Scripture very incorrectly, but much to 
the edification of the cottager's wife; and on coming 
out pinched the daughter's rosy cheek, and wondered 
what was in the young men, that such a pretty face did 
not get a husband. 

He has also his cabinet counselors in the village, with 
whom he is very busy just now, preparing for the May- 
day ceremonies. Among these is the village tailor, a 
pale-faced fellow, who plays the clarinet in the church 
choir; and, being a great musical genius, has frequent 
meetings of the band at his house, where they " make 
night hideous " by their concerts. He is, in consequence, 
high in favor with Master Simon ; and, through his in- 
fluence, has the making, or rather marring, of all the 
liveries of the Hall, which generally look as though they 
had been cut out by one of those scientific tailors of the 
Flying Island of Laputa, who took measure of their 
customers with a quadrant. The tailor, in fact, might 
rise to be one of the moneyed men of the village, was 



THE SCHOOLMASTER 69 

he not rather too prone to gossip, and keep hoHdays, 
and give concerts, and blow all his substance, real and 
personal, through his clarinet; which literally keeps 
him poor both in body and estate. He has for the pre- 
sent thrown by all his regular work, and suffered the 
breeches of the village to go unmade and unmended, 
while he is occupied in making garlands of party- 
colored rags, in imitation of flowers, for the decoration 
of the May-pole. 

Another of Master Simon's counselors is the apothe- 
cary, a short, and rather fat man, with a pair of promi- 
nent eyes, that diverge like those of a lobster. He is 
the village wise man ; very sententious, and full of pro- 
found remarks on shallow subjects. Master Simon 
often quotes his sayings, and mentions him as rather 
an extraordinary man; and even consults him occa- 
sionally in desperate cases of the dogs and horses. In- 
deed, he seems to have been overwhelmed by the apoth- 
ecary's philosophy, which is exactly one observation 
deep, consisting of indisputable maxims, such as may 
be gathered from the mottoes of tobacco-boxes. I had 
a specimen of his philosophy in my very first conversa- 
tion with him; in the course of which he observed, 
with great solemnity and emphasis, that "man is a 
compound of wisdom and folly"; upon which Master 
Simon, who had hold of my arm, pressed very hard 
upon it, and whispered in my ear, "that's a devilish 
shrewd remark.'* 

THE SCHOOLMASTER 

Among the worthies of the village, that enjoy the 
peculiar confidence of Master Simon, is one who has 



70 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

struck my fancy so much, that I have thought him 
worthy of a separate notice. It is Slingsby, the school- 
master, a thin elderly man, rather threadbare and 
slovenly, somewhat indolent in manner, and with an 
easy, good-humored look, not often met with in his 
craft. I have been interested in his favor by a few 
anecdotes which I have picked up concerning him. 

He is a native of the village, and was a contemporary 
and playmate of Ready-Money Jack in the days of their 
boyhood. Indeed, they carried on a kind of league of 
mutual good offices. Slingsby was rather puny, and 
withal somewhat of a coward, but very apt at his learn- 
ing : Jack, on the contrary, was a bully-boy out of doors, 
but a sad laggard at his books. Slingsby helped Jack, 
therefore, to all his lessons; Jack fought all Slingsby's 
battles; and they were inseparable friends. This mu- 
tual kindness continued even after they left the school, 
notwithstanding the dissimilarity of their characters. 
Jack took to ploughing and reaping, and prepared him- 
self to till his paternal acres; while the other loitered 
negligently on in the path of learning, until he pene- 
trated even into the confines of Latin and Mathematics. 

In an unlucky hour, however, he took to reading 
voyages and travels, and was smitten with a desire to 
see the world. This desire increased upon him as he 
grew up; so, early one bright sunny morning, he put 
all his effects in a knapsack, slung it on his back, took 
staff in hand, and called in his way to take leave of his 
early schoolmate. Jack was just going out with the 
plough : the friends shook hands over the farm-house 
gate; Jack drove his team a-field, and Slingsby whistled 
" over the hills and far away," and salhed forth gayly 
to "seek his fortune." 



THE SCHOOLMASTER 71 

Years and years passed by, and young Tom Slingsby 
was forgotten; when, one mellow Sunday afternoon in 
autumn, a thin man, somewhat advanced in life, with 
a coat out at elbows, a pair of old nankeen gaiters, 
and a few things tied in a handkerchief, and slung on 
the end of a stick, was seen loitering through the vil- 
lage. He appeared to regard several houses attentively, 
to peer into the window^s that were open, to eye the 
villagers wistfully as they returned from church, and 
then to pass some time in the church-yard, reading the 
tombstones. 

At length he found his way to the farm-house of 
Ready-Money Jack, but paused ere he attempted the 
wicket; contemplating the picture of substantial in- 
dependence before him. In the porch of the house sat 
Ready-Money Jack, in his Sunday dress ; with his hat 
upon his head, his pipe in his mouth, and his tankard 
before him, the monarch of all he surveyed. Beside 
him lay his fat house-dog. The varied sounds of poul- 
try were heard from the well-stocked farm-yard; the 
bees hummed from their hives in the garden ; the cattle 
lowed in the rich meadow; while the crammed barns 
and ample stacks bore proof of an abundant harvest. 

The stranger opened the gate and advanced dubi- 
ously toward the house. The mastiff growled at the sight 
of the suspicious-looking intruder; but was immedi- 
ately silenced by his master ; who, taking his pipe from 
his mouth, awaited with inquiring aspect the address of 
this equivocal personage. The stranger eyed old Jack 
for a moment, so portly in his dimensions, and decked 
out in gorgeous apparel; then cast a glance upon his 
own threadbare and starveling condition, and the scanty 
bundle which he held in his hand ; then giving his shrunk 



72 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

waistcoat a twitch to make it meet its receding waist- 
band ; and casting another look, half sad, half humor- 
ous, at the sturdy yeoman, " I suppose," said he, " Mr. 
Tibbets,you have forgot old times and old playmates." 

The latter gazed at him with scrutinizing look, but 
acknowledged that he had no recollection of him. 

"Like enough, like enough," said the stranger; 
" every body seems to have forgotten poor Slingsby ! " 

" Why no, sure ! it can't be Tom Slingsby ! " 

"Yes, but it is, though!" replied the stranger, shak- 
ing his head. 

Ready-Money Jack was on his feet in a twinkling; 
thrust out his hand, gave his ancient crony the gripe 
of a giant, and slapping the other hand on a bench, 
"Sit down there," cried he, "Tom Slingsby!" 

A long conversation ensued about old times, while 
Slingsby was regaled with the best cheer that the farm- 
house afforded ; for he was hungry as well as wa}'Worn, 
and had the keen appetite of a poor pedestrian. The 
early playmates then talked over their subsequent lives 
and adventures. Jack had but little to relate and was 
never good at a long story. A prosperous life, passed 
at home, has little incident for narrative ; it is only poor 
devils, that are tossed about the world, that are the true 
heroes of story. Jack had stuck by the paternal farm, 
followed the same plough that his forefathers had 
driven, and had waxed richer and richer as he grew 
older. As to Tom Slingsby, he was an exemplification 
of the old proverb, " a rolling stone gathers no moss." 
He had sought his fortune about the world, without 
ever finding it, being a thing of tener found at home than 
abroad. He had been in all kinds of situations, and 
had learnt a dozen different modes of making a living; 



THE SCHOOLMASTER 73 

but had found his way back to his native village rather 
poorer than when he left it, his knapsack having dwin- 
dled down to a scanty bundle. 

As luck would have it, the Squire was passing by 
the farm-house that very evening, and called there, as is 
often his custom. He found the two schoolmates still 
gossiping in the porch, and, according to the good old 
Scottish song, " taking a cup of kindness yet, for auld 
lang syne." The Squire was struck by the contrast in 
appearance and fortunes of these early playmates. 
Ready- Money Jack, seated in lordly state, surrounded 
by the good things of this life, with golden guineas 
hanging to his very watch-chain ; and the poor pilgrim 
Slingsby, thin as a weasel, with all his worldly effects, 
his bundle, hat, and walking-staff, lying on the ground 
beside him. 

The good Squire's heart warmed towards the luckless 
cosmopolite, for he is a little prone to like such half- 
vagrant characters. He cast about in his mind how he 
should contrive once more to anchor Slingsby in his 
native village. Honest Jack had already offered him a 
present shelter under his roof, in spite of the hints, and 
winks, and half remonstrances of the shrewd Dame 
Tibbets; but how to provide for his permanent main- 
tenance was the question. Luckily, the Squire be- 
thought himself that the village school was without a 
teacher. A little further conversation convinced him 
that Slingsby was as fit for that as for any thing else, 
and in a day or two he was seen swaying the rod of 
empire in the very school-house where he had often 
been horsed in the days of his boyhood. 

Here he has remained for several years, and, being 
honored by the countenance of the Squire, and the fast 



74 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

friendship of Mr. Tibbets, he has grown into much im- 
portance and consideration in the village. I am told, 
however, that he still shows, now and then, a degree 
of restlessness, and a disposition to rove abroad again, 
and see a little more of the world; an inclination. which 
seems particularly to haunt him about spring-time. 
There is nothing so difficult to conquer as the vagrant 
humor, when once it has been fully indulged. 

Since I have heard these anecdotes of poor Slingsby, 
I have more than once mused upon the picture pre- 
sented by him and his schoolmate Ready-Money Jack, 
on their coming together again after so long a sepa- 
ration. It is difficult to determine between lots in 
life, where each is attended with its peculiar discon- 
tents. He who never leaves his home repines at his 
monotonous existence, and envies the traveler, whose 
life is a constant tissue of wonder and adventure; while 
he who is tossed about the world, looks back with many 
a sigh to the safe and quiet shore which he has aban- 
doned. I cannot help thinking, however, that the man 
who stays at home, and cultivates the comforts and 
pleasures daily springing up around him, stands the 
best chance for happiness. There is nothing so fasci- 
nating to a young mind as the idea of traveling; and 
there is very witchcraft in the old phrase found in every 
nursery tale, of " going to seek one's fortune." A con- 
tinual change of place, and change of object, promises 
a continual succession of adventure and gratification 
of curiosity. But there is a limit to all our enjoyments, 
and every desire bears its death in its very gratification. 
Curiosity languishes under repeated stimulants; nov- 
elties cease to excite surprise ; until at length we cannot 
wonder even at a miracle. 



THE ROOKERY 75 

He who has sallied forth into the world, like poor 
Slingsby, full of sunny anticipations, finds too soon 
how different the distant scene becomes when visited. 
The smooth place roughens as he approaches ; the wild 
place becomes tame and barren ; the fairy tints which 
beguiled him on, still fly to the distant hill, or gather 
upon the land he has left behind ; and every part of the 
landscape seems greener than the spot he stands on. 

THE ROOKERY 

In a grove of tall oaks and beeches, that crowns a 
terrace-walk, just on the skirts of the garden, is an 
ancient rookery; which is one of the most important 
provinces in the Squire's rural domains. The old gen- 
tleman sets great store by his rooks, and will not suffer 
one of them to be killed ; in consequence of which they 
have increased amazingly: the tree-tops are loaded 
with their nests ; they have encroached upon the great 
avenue, and even established, in times long past, a 
colony among the elms and pines of the church-yard, 
which, like other distant colonies, has already thrown 
off allegiance to the mother country. 

The rooks are looked upon by the Squire as a very 
ancient and honorable line of gentry, highly aristo- 
cratical in their notions, fond of place, and attached 
to church and state ; as their building so loftily, keeping 
about churches and cathedrals, and in the venerable 
groves of old castles and manor-houses, sufficiently 
manifests. The good opinion thus expressed by the 
Squire put me upon observing more narrowly these 
very respectable birds; for I confess, to my shame, I 
had been apt to confound them with their cousins- 



76 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

gennan the crows, to whom, at the first glance, they 
bear so great a family resemblance. Nothing, it seems, 
could be more unjust or injurious than such a mistake. 
The rooks and crows are, among the feathered tribes, 
what the Spaniards and Portuguese are among nations, 
the least loving, in consequence of their neighborhood 
and similarity. The rooks are old-established house- 
keepers, high-minded gentlefolk, who have had their 
hereditary abodes time out of mind ; but as to the poor 
crows, they are a kind of vagabond, predatory, gipsy 
race, roving about the country without any settled 
home; "their hands are against every body, and every 
body's against them," and they are gibbeted in every 
cornfield. Master Simon assures me that a female 
rook, who should so far forget herself as to consort 
with a crow, would inevitably be disinherited, and 
indeed would be totally discarded by all her genteel 
acquaintance. 

The Squire is very watchful over the interests and 
concerns of his sable neighbors. As to Master Simon, 
he even pretends to know many of them by sight, and 
to have given names to them; he points out several, 
which he says are old heads of families, and compares 
them to worthy old citizens, beforehand in the world, 
that wear cocked-hats, and silver buckles in their shoes. 
Notwithstanding the protecting benevolence of the 
Squire, and their being residents in his empire, they 
seem to acknowledge no allegiance, and to hold no 
intercourse or intimacy. Their airy tenements are 
built almost out of the reach of gunshot ; and notwith- 
standing their vicinity to the Hall, they maintain a 
most reserved and distrustful shyness of mankind. 

There is one season of the year, however, which 



THE ROOKERY 77 

brings all birds in a manner to a level, and tames the 
pride of the loftiest high-flier, which is the season of 
building their nests. This takes place early in the 
spring, when the forest-trees first begin to show their 
buds, and the long, withy ends of the branches to turn 
green; when the wild strawberry and other herbage 
of the sheltered woodlands put forth their tender and 
tinted leaves; and the daisy and the primrose peep 
from under the hedges. At this time there is a general 
bustle among the feathered tribes ; an incessant flutter- 
ing about, and a cheerful chirping ; indicative, like the 
germination of the vegetable world, of the reviving life 
and fecundity of the year. 

It is then that the rooks forget their usual stateliness, 
and their shy and lofty habits. Instead of keeping up 
in the high regions of the air, swinging on the breezy 
tree-tops, and looking down with sovereign contempt 
upon the humble crawlers upon earth, they are fain 
to throw off for a time the dignity of the gentleman, to 
come down to the ground, and put on the painstaking 
and industrious character of a laborer. They now lose 
their natural shyness, become fearless and familiar, 
and may be seen plying about in all directions, with an 
air of great assiduity, in search of building materials. 
Every now and then your path will be crossed by one 
of these busy old gentlemen, worrying about with awk- 
ward gait, as if troubled with the gout, or with corns on 
his toes; casting about many a prying look; turning 
down first one eye, then the other, in earnest consid- 
eration, upon every straw he meets with ; until, espying 
some mighty twig, large enough to make a rafter for 
his air-castle, he will seize upon it with avidity, and 
hurry away with it to the tree-top; fearing, appar- 



78 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

ently, lest you should dispute with him the invaluable 
prize. 

Like other castle-builders, these airy architects seem 
rather fanciful in the materials with which they build, 
and to like those most which come from a distance. 
Thus, though there are abundance of dry twigs on the 
surrounding trees, yet they never think of making use 
of them, but go foraging in distant lands, and come 
sailing home one by one, from the ends of the earth, 
each bearing in his bill some precious piece of 
timber. 

Nor must I avoid mentioning, what, I grieve to say, 
rather derogates from the grave and honorable char- 
acter of these ancient gentlefolk, that, during the archi- 
tectural season, they are subject to great dissensions 
among themselves; that they make no scruple to de- 
fraud and plunder each other; and that sometimes the 
rookery is a scene of hideous brawl and commotion, in 
consequence of some delinquency of the kind. One 
of the partners generally remains on the nest to guard 
it from depredation; and I have seen severe contests, 
when some sly neighbor has endeavored to filch away 
a tempting rafter that had captivated his eye. As I 
am not willing hastily to admit any suspicion deroga- 
tory to the general character of so worshipful a people, 
I am inclined to think these larcenies discountenanced 
by the higher classes, and even rigorously punished 
by those in authority; for I have now and then seen a 
whole gang of rooks fall upon the nest of some indi- 
vidual, pull it all to pieces, carry off the spoils, and even 
buffet the luckless proprietor. I have concluded this 
to be a signal punishment inflicted upon him, by the 
officers of the police, for some pilfering misdemeanor; 



THE ROOKERY 79 

or, perhaps, that it was a crew of bailiffs carrying an 
execution into his house. 

I have been amused with another of their movements 
during the building season. The steward has suffered 
a considerable number of sheep to graze on a lawn 
near the house, somewhat to the annoyance of the 
Squire, who thinks this an innovation on the dignity 
of a park, which ought to be devoted to deer only. Be 
this as it may, there is a green knoll, not far from the 
drawing-room window, where the ewes and lambs are 
accustomed to assemble towards evening, for the be- 
nefit of the setting sun. No sooner were they gathered 
here, at the time when these politic birds were building, 
than a stately old rook, who Master Simon assured me 
was the chief magistrate of this community, would 
settle down upon the head of one of the ewes, who, 
seeming unconscious of this condescension, would 
desist from grazing, and stand fixed in motionless 
reverence of her august burden ; the rest of the rook- 
ery would then come wheeling down, in imitation of 
their leader, until every ewe had two or three of them 
cawing, and fluttering, and battling upon her back. 
Whether they requited the submission of the sheep, by 
levying a contribution upon their fleece for the benefit 
of the rookery, I am not certain; though I presume 
they followed the usual custom of protecting powers. 

The latter part of May is the time of great tribulation 
among the rookeries, when the young are just able to 
leave the nests, and balance themselves on the neigh- 
boring branches. Now comes on the season of " rook- 
shooting"; a terrible slaughter of the innocents. The 
Squire, of course, prohibits all invasion of the kind on 
his territories ; but I am told that a lamentable havoc 



80 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

takes place in the colony about the old church. Upon 
this devoted commonwealth the village charges "with 
all its chivalry." Every idle wight, lucky enough to 
possess an old gun or blunderbuss, together with all 
the archery of Slingsby's school, takes the field on the 
occasion. In vain does the little parson interfere, or 
remonstrate, in angry tones, from his study window 
that looks into the church-yard; there is a continual 
popping from morning till night. Being no great 
marksmen, their shots are not often effective; but 
every now and then a great shout from the besieging 
army of bumpkins makes known the downfall of some 
unlucky, squab rook, which comes to the ground with 
the emphasis of a squashed apple-dumpling. 

Nor is the rookery entirely free from other troubles 
and disasters. In so aristocratical and lofty-minded 
a community, which boasts so much ancient blood and 
hereditary pride, it is natural to suppose that questions 
of etiquette will sometimes arise, and affairs of honor 
ensue. In fact, this is very often the case; bitter quar- 
rels break out between individuals, which produce 
sad scufflings on the tree-tops, and I have more than 
once seen a regular duel between two doughty heroes 
of the rookery. Their field of battle is generally the 
air ; and their contest is managed in the most scientific 
and elegant manner; wheeling round and round each 
other, and towering higher and higher, to get the van- 
tage ground, until they sometimes disappear in the 
clouds before the combat is determined. 

They have also fierce combats now and then with an 
invading hawk, and will drive him off from their ter- 
ritories by a fosse comitatus. They are also extremely 
tenacious of their domains, and will suffer no other 



THE ROOKERY 81 

bird to inhabit the grove or its vicinity. A very ancient 
and respectable old bachelor owl had for a long time 
his lodgings in a corner of the grove, but has been 
fairly ejected by the rooks; and has retired, disgusted 
with the world, to a neighboring wood, where he leads 
the life of a hermit, and makes nightly complaints of 
his ill treatment. 

The hootings of this unhappy gentleman may gen- 
erally be heard in the still evenings, when the rooks 
are all at rest; and I have often listened to them, of 
a moonlight night, with a kind of mysterious gratifi- 
cation. This gray-bearded misanthrope of course is 
highly respected by the Squire; but the servants have 
superstitious notions about him ; and it would be diffi- 
cult to get the dairy-maid to venture after dark near 
to the wood which he inhabits. 

Besides the private quarrels of the rooks, there are 
other misfortunes to which they are liable, and which 
often bring distress into the most respectable families 
of the rookery. Having the true baronial spirit of the 
good old feudal times, they are apt now and then to 
issue forth from their castles on a foray, and lay the 
plebeian fields of the neighboring country under con- 
tribution ; in the course of which chivalrous expeditions 
they now and then get a shot from the rusty artillery 
of some refractory farmer. Occasionally, too, while 
they are quietly taking the air beyond the park bound- 
aries, they have the incaution to come within reach of 
the truant bowmen of Slingsby's school, and receive 
a flight shot from some unlucky urchin's arrow. In 
such case the wounded adventurer will sometimes have 
just strength enough to bring himself home, and, giving 
up the ghost at the rookery, will hang dangling "all 



82 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

abroad" on a bough, like a thief on a gibbet; an awful 
warning to his friends, and an object of great commis- 
eration to the Squire. 

But, maugre all these untoward incidents, the rooks 
have, upon the whole, a happy holiday life of it. When 
their young are reared, and fairly launched upon their 
native element, the air, the cares of the old folks seem 
over, and they resume all their aristocratical dignity 
and idleness. I have envied them the enjoyment which 
they appear to have in their ethereal heights, sporting 
with clamorous exultation about their lofty bowers; 
sometimes hovering over them, sometimes partially 
alighting upon the topmost branches, and there bal- 
ancing with outstretched wings, and swinging in the 
breeze. Sometimes they seem to take a fashionable 
drive to the church, and amuse themselves by circling 
in airy rings about its spire ; at other times a mere gar- 
rison is left at home to mount guard in their strong- 
hold at the grove, while the rest roam abroad to enjoy 
the fine weather. About sunset the garrison gives notice 
of their return; their faint cawing will be heard from 
a great distance, and they will be seen far off like a 
sable cloud, and then, nearer and nearer, until they all 
come soaring home. Then they perform several grand 
circuits in the air, over the Hall and garden, wheeling 
closer and closer, until they gradually settle down; 
when a prodigious cawing takes place, as though they 
were relating their day's adventures. 

I like at such times to wa.lk about these dusky groves, 
and hear the various sounds of these airy people roosted 
so high above me. As the gloom increases, their con- 
versation subsides, and they gradually drop asleep; 
but every now and then there is a querulous note, as 



MAY-DAY 83 

if some one was quarreling for a pillow, or a little more 
of the blanket. It is late in the evening before they 
completely sink to repose, and then their old anchorite 
neighbor, the owl, begins his lonely hootings from his 
bachelor 's-hall, in the wood. 

MAY-DAY 

As I was lying in bed this morning, enjoying one of 
those half dreams, half reveries, which are so pleasant 
in the country, when the birds are singing about the 
window, and the sunbeams peeping through the cur- 
tains, I was roused by the sound of music. On going 
down stairs, I found a number of villagers, dressed in 
their holiday clothes, bearing a pole ornamented with 
garlands and ribbons, and accompanied by the village 
band of music, under the direction of the tailor, the 
pale fellow who plays on the clarinet. They had all 
sprigs of hawthorn, or, as it is called, "the May,'* in 
their hats, and had brought green branches and flowers 
to decorate the Hall door and windows. They had 
come to give notice that the May-pole was reared on 
the green, and to invite the household to witness the 
sports. The Hall, according to custom, became a scene 
of hurry and delighted confusion. The servants were 
all agog with May and music ; and there was no keep- 
ing either the tongues or the feet of the maids quiet, 
who were anticipating the sports of the green, and the 
evening dance. 

I repaired to the village at an early hour to enjoy 
the merry-making. The morning was pure and sunny, 
such as a May morning is always described. The fields 
were white with daisies, the hawtkorn was covered 



84 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

with its fragrant blossoms, the bee hummed about 
every bank, and the swallow played high in the air 
about the village steeple. It was one of those genial 
days when we seem to draw in pleasure with the very 
air we breathe, and to feel happy we know not why. 
Whoever has felt the worth of worthy man, or has 
doted on lovely woman, will, on such a day, call them 
tenderly to mind, and feel his heart all alive with long- 
buried recollections. " For thenne," says the excellent 
romance of King Arthur, "lovers call ageyne to their 
mynde old gentilnes and old servyse, and many kind 
dedes that were forgotten by neglygence." 

Before reaching the village, I saw the May-pole 
towering above the cottages, with its gay garlands and 
streamers, and heard the sound of music. Booths had 
been set up near it, for the reception of company ; and 
a bower of green branches and flowers for the Queen 
of May, a fresh, rosy-cheeked girl of the village. 

A band of morris-dancers were capering on the green 
in their fantastic dresses, jingling with hawks' bells, 
with a boy dressed up as Maid Marian, and the attend- 
ant fool rattling his box to collect contributions from 
the bystanders. The gipsy-women too were already 
plying their mystery in by-corners of the village, read- 
ing the hands of the simple country girls, and no doubt 
promising them all good husbands and tribes of chil- 
dren. 

The Squire made his appearance in the course of thq 
morning, attended by the parson, and was received 
with loud acclamations. He mingled among the coun- 
try people throughout the day, giving and receiving 
pleasure wherever he went. The amusements of the 
day were under the management of Slingsby, the 



MAY-DAY 85 

schoolmaster, who is not merely lord of misrule in his 
school, but master of the revels to the village. He was 
bustling about with the perplexed and anxious air of 
a man who has the oppressive burden of promoting 
other people's merriment upon his mind. He had in- 
volved himself in a dozen scrapes in consequence of a 
politic intrigue, which, by the by. Master Simon and 
the Oxonian were at the bottom of, which had for its 
object the election of the Queen of May. He had met 
with violent opposition from a faction of ale-drinkers, 
who were in favor of a bouncing bar-maid, the daughter 
of the inn-keeper ; but he had been too strongly backed 
not to carry his point, though it shows that these rural 
crowns, like all others, are objects of great ambition 
and heart-burning. I am told that Master Simon takes 
great interest, though in an underhand way, in the 
election of these May-day Queens ; and that the chaplet 
is generally secured for some rustic beauty who has 
found favor in his eyes. 

In the course of the day there were various games 
of strength and agility on the green, at which a knot 
of village veterans presided, as judges of the lists. 
Among these Ready- Money Jack took the lead, look- 
ing with a learned and critical eye on the merits of the 
different candidates ; and though he was very laconic 
and sometimes merely expressed himself by a nod, it 
was evident his opinions far outweighed those of the 
most loquacious. 

Young Jack Tibbets was the hero of the day, and 
carried off most of the prizes, though in some of the 
feats of agility he was rivaled by the " prodigal son," 
who appeared much in his element on this occasion; 
but his most formidable competitor was the notorious 



86 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

gipsy, the redoubtable "Star-light Tom." I was re- 
joiced at having an opportunity of seeing this " minion 
of the moon" in broad daylight. I found him a tall, 
swarthy, good-looking fellow, with a lofty air, some- 
thing like what I have seen in an Indian chieftain ; and 
with a certain lounging, easy, and almost graceful car- 
riage, which I have often remarked in beings of the 
lazaroni order, who lead an idle, loitering life, and have 
a gentlemanlike contempt of labor. 

Master Simon and the old general reconnoitred the 
ground together, and indulged a vast deal of harmless 
raking among the buxom country girls. Master Simon 
would give some of them a kiss on meeting with them, 
and would ask after their sisters, for he is acquainted 
with most of the farmers' families. Sometimes he would 
whisper, and affect to talk mischievously with them, 
and, if bantered on the subject, would turn it off with 
a laugh, though it was evident he liked to be suspected 
of being a gay Lothario amongst them. 

He had much to say to the farmers about their farms ; 
and seemed to know all their horses by name. There 
was an old fellow, with a round ruddy face, and a night- 
cap under his hat, the village wit, who took several oc- 
casions to crack a joke with him in the hearing of his 
companions, to whom he would turn and wink hard 
when Master Simon had passed. 

The harmony of the day, however, had nearly, at 
one time, been interrupted, by the appearance of the 
radical on the ground, with two or three of his dis- 
ciples. He soon got engaged in argument in the very 
thick of the throng, above which I could hear his voice, 
and now and then see his meagre hand, half a mile out 
of the sleeve, elevated in the air in violent gesticula- 



MAY-DAY 87 

tion, and flourishing a pamphlet by way of truncheon. 
He was decrying these idle nonsensical amusements in 
times of public distress, when it was every one's busi- 
ness to think of other matters, and to be miserable. 
The honest village logicians could make no stand against 
him, especially as he was seconded by his proselytes; 
when, to their great joy. Master Simon and the gen- 
eral came drifting down into the field of action. Master 
Simon was for making off, as soon as he found himself 
in the neighborhood of this fireship ; but the general was 
too loyal to suffer such talk in his hearing, and thought, 
no doubt, that a look and a word from a gentleman 
would be sufficient to shut up so shabby an orator. 
The latter, however, was no respecter of persons, but 
rather exulted in having such important antagonists. 
He talked with greater volubility than ever, and soon 
drowned them in declamation on the subject of taxes, 
poor's rates, and the national debt. Master Simon 
endeavored to brush along in his usual excursive man- 
ner, which always answered amazingly well with the 
villagers; but the radical was one of those pestilent 
fellows that pin a man down to facts ; and, indeed, he 
had two or three pamphlets in his pocket, to support 
every thing he advanced by printed documents. The 
general, too, found himself betrayed into a more seri- 
ous action than his dignity could brook; and looked 
like a mighty Dutch Indiaman grievously peppered 
by a petty privateer. In vain he swelled and looked 
big, and talked large, and endeavored to make up by 
pomp of manner for poverty of matter; every home- 
thrust of the radical made him wheeze like a bellows, 
and seemed to let a volume of wind out of him. In a 
word, the two worthies from the Hall were completely 



88 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

dumbfounded, and this too in the presence of several 
of Master Simon's stanch admirers, who had always 
looked up to him as infallible; I do not know how he 
and the general would have managed to draw their 
forces decently from the field, had not a match at grin- 
ning through a horse-collar been announced, whereupon 
the radical retired with great expression of contempt, 
and, as soon as his back was turned, the argument 
was carried against him all hollow. 

" Did you ever hear such a pack of stuff, general ?" 
said Master Simon; "there's no talking with one of 
these chaps when he once gets that confounded Cob- 
bett in his head/' 

" S'blood, sir !" said the general, wiping his forehead, 
"such fellows ought to be transported!" 

In the latter part of the day the ladies from the Hall 
paid a visit to the green. The fair Julia made her ap- 
pearance, leaning on her lover's arm, and looking ex- 
tremely pale and interesting. As she is a great favorite 
in the village, where she has been known from child- 
hood ; and as her late accident had been much talked 
about, the sight of her caused very manifest delight, 
and some of the old women of the village blessed her 
sweet face as she passed. 

While they were walking about, I noticed the school- 
master in earnest conversation with the Queen of May, 
evidently endeavoring to spirit her up to some formid- 
able undertaking. At length, as the party from the 
Hall approached her bower, she came forth, falter- 
ing at every step, until she reached the spot where the 
fair Julia stood between her lover and Lady Lillycraft. 
The little Queen then took the chaplet of flowers 
from her head, and attempted to put it on that of the 



MAY-DAY 89 

bride elect ; but the confusion of both was so great, that 
the wreath would have fallen to the ground, had not 
the officer caught it, and, laughing, placed it upon the 
blushing brows of his mistress. There was something 
charming in the very embarrassment of these two young 
creatures, both so beautiful, yet so different in their 
kinds of beauty. Master Simon told me, afterw ards, 
that the Queen of May was to have spoken a few verses 
which the schoolmaster had written for her; but she 
had neither wit to understand, nor memory to recollect 
them. "Besides," added he, "between you and I, she 
murders the king's English abominably; so she has 
acted the part of a wise woman in holding her tongue, 
and trusting to her pretty face.'* 

Among the other characters from the Hall was Mrs. 
Hannah, my Lady Lillycraft's gentlewoman : to my 
surprise she was escorted by old Christy, the hunts- 
man, and followed by his ghost of a greyhound ; but 
I find they are very old acquaintances, being drawn 
together by some sympathy of disposition. Mrs. Han- 
nah moved about with starched dignity among the rus- 
tics, who drew back from her with more awe than they 
did from her mistress. Her mouth seemed shut as w ith 
a clasp ; excepting that I now and then heard the word 
"fellows!" escape from between her lips, as she got 
accidentally jostled in the crowd. 

But there was one other heart present that did not 
enter into the merriment of the scene, which was that 
of the simple Phoebe Wilkins, the housekeeper's niece. 
The poor girl has continued to pine and whine for some 
time past, in consequence of the obstinate coldness of 
her lover; never was a little flirtation more severely 
punished. She appeared this day on the green, gal- 



90 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

lanted by a smart servant out of livery, and had evi- 
dently resolved to try the hazardous experiment of 
awakening the jealousy of her lover. She was dressed 
in her very best ; affected an air of great gayety ; talked 
loud and girlishly, and laughed when there was nothing 
to laugh at. There was, however, an aching, heavy 
heart, in the poor baggage's bosom, in Spite of all her 
levity. Her eye turned every now and then in quest of 
her reckless lover, and her cheek grew pale, and her 
fictitious gayety vanished, on seeing him paying his 
rustic homage to the little May-day Queen. 

My attention was now^ diverted by a fresh stir and 
bustle. Music was heard from a distance; a banner 
was advancing up the road, preceded by a rustic band 
playing something like a march, and followed by a 
sturdy throng of country lads, the chivalry of a neigh- 
boring and rival village. 

No sooner had they reached the green than they chal- 
lenged the heroes of the day to new trials of strength 
and activity. Several gymnastic contests ensued for the 
honor of the respective villages. In the course of these 
exercises, young Tibbets and the champion of the 
adverse party had an obstinate match at wrestling. 
They tugged, and strained, and panted, without either 
getting the mastery, until both came to the ground, 
and rolled upon the green. Just then the disconsolate 
Phoebe came by. She saw her recreant lover in fierce 
contest, as she thought, and in danger. In a moment 
pride, pique, and coquetry were forgotten : she rushed 
into the ring, seized upon the rival champion by the 
hair, and was on the point of wreaking on him her puny 
vengeance, when a buxom, strapping country lass, the 
sweetheart of the prostrate swain, pounced upon her 



MAY-DAY 91 

like a hawk, and would have stripped her of her fine 
plumage in a twinkling, had she also not been seized 
in her turn. 

A complete tumult ensued. The chivalry of the two 
villages became embroiled. Blows began to be dealt, 
and sticks to be flourished. Phoebe was carried off from 
the field in hysterics. In vain did the sages of the village 
interfere. The sententious apothecary endeavored to 
pour the soothing oil of his philosophy upon this tem- 
pestuous sea of passion, but was tumbled into the dust. 
Slingsby, the pedagogue, who is a great lover of peace, 
went into the midst of the throng, as marshal of the 
day, to put an end to the commotion ; but was rent in 
twain, and came out with his garment hanging in two 
strips from his shoulders : upon which the prodigal son 
dashed in with fury to revenge the insult sustained by 
his patron. The tumult thickened ; I caught glimpses 
of the jockey-cap of old Christy, like the helmet of 
a chieftain, bobbing about in the midst of the scuffle; 
while Mistress Hannah, separated from her doughty 
protector, was squalling and striking at right and left 
with a faded parasol ; being tossed and tousled about by 
the crowd in such wise as never happened to maiden 
gentlewoman before. 

At length old Ready-Money Jack made his way 
into the very thickest of the throng; tearing it, as it 
were, apart, and enforcing peace, vi et armis. It was 
surprising to see the sudden quiet that ensued. The 
storm settled down at once into tranquillity. The par- 
ties, having no real grounds of hostility, were readily 
pacified, and in fact were a little at a loss to know why 
and how they had got by the ears. Slingsby was speed- 
ily stitched together again by his friend the tailor, and 



92 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

resumed his usual good humor. Mrs. Hannah drew 
on one side to plume her rumpled feathers; and old 
Christy, having repaired his damages, took her under 
his arm, and they swept back again to the Hall, ten 
times more bitter against mankind than ever. 

The Tibbets family alone seemed slow in recover- 
ing from the agitation of the scene. Young Jack was 
evidently very much moved by the heroism of the un- 
lucky Phoebe. His mother, who had been summoned 
to the field of action by news of the affray, was in a sad 
panic, and had need of all her management to keep 
him from following his mistress, and coming to a per- 
fect reconciliation. 

WTiat heightened the alarm and perplexity of the 
good managing dame was, that the matter had aroused 
the slow apprehension of old Ready-Money himself; 
who was very much struck by the intrepid interfer- 
ence of so pretty and delicate a girl, and W'as sadly 
puzzled to understand the meaning of the violent agi- 
tation in his family. 

When all this came to the ears of the Squire, he was 
grievously scandalized that his May-day fete should 
have been disgraced by such a brawl. He ordered 
Phoebe to appear before him, but the girl was so 
frightened and distressed, that she came sobbing and 
trembling, and, at the first question he asked, fell 
again into hysterics. Lady Lillycraft, who understood 
there was an affair of the heart at the bottom of this 
distress, immediately took the girl into great favor and 
protection, and made her peace with the Squire. This 
was the only thing that disturbed the harmony of the 
day, if we except the discomfiture of Master Simon and 
the general by the radical. Upon the whole, therefore. 



THE CULPRIT 93 

the Squire had very fair reason to be satisfied that he 
had rode his hobby throughout the day without any 
other molestation. 



THE CULPRIT 

The serenity of the Hall has been suddenly inter- 
rupted by a very important occurrence. In the course 
of this morning a posse of villagers was seen trooping 
up the avenue, with boys shouting in advance. As it 
drew near, we perceived Ready-Money Jack Tibbets 
striding along, wielding his cudgel in one hand, and 
with the other grasping the collar of a tall fellow, whom, 
on still nearer approach, we recognized for the re- 
doubtable gipsy hero. Star-light Tom. He was now, 
however, completely cowed and crest-fallen, and his 
courage seemed to have quailed in the iron gripe of 
tlie lion-hearted Jack. 

The whole gang of gipsy women and children came 
draggling in the rear; some in tears, others making a 
violent clamor about the ears of old Ready-Money, 
w^ho, however, trudged on in silence with his prey, 
heeding their abuse as little as a hawk that has pounced 
upon a barn-door hero regards the outcries and cack- 
lings of his whole feathered seraglio. 

He had passed through the village on his way to the 
Hall, and of course had made a great sensation in that 
most excitable place, where every event is a matter of 
gaze and gossip. The report flew like wildfire, that 
Star-light Tom was in custody. The ale-drinkers forth- 
with abandoned the tap-room ; Slingsby's school broke 
loose, and master and boys swelled the tide that came 
rolling at the heels of old Ready-Money and his captive. 



94 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

The uproar increased as they approached the Hall ; 
it aroused the whole garrison of dogs, and the crew of 
hangers-on. The great mastiff barked from the dog- 
house ; the staghound and the greyhound and the span- 
iel issued barking from the hall-door, and my Lady 
Lillycraft's little dogs ramped and barked from the 
parlor window. I remarked, however, that the gipsy 
dogs made no reply to all these menaces and insults, 
but crept close to the gang, looking round with a guilty, 
poaching air, and now and then glancing up a dubious 
eye to their owners; which shows that the moral dig- 
nity, even of dogs, may be ruined by bad company ! 

When the throng reached the front of the house, they 
were brought to a halt by a kind of advanced guard, 
composed of old Christy, the gamekeeper, and two or 
three servants of the house, who had been brought 
out by the noise. The common herd of the village fell 
back with respect ; the boys w^ere driven back by Christy 
and his compeers; while Ready-Money Jack main- 
tained his ground and his hold of the prisoner, and was 
surrounded by the tailor, the schoolmaster, and several 
other dignitaries of the village, and by the clamorous 
brood of gipsies, who were neither to be silenced nor 
intimidated. 

By this time the whole household were brought to 
the doors and windows, and the Squire to the portal. 
An audience was demanded by Ready-Money Jack, 
who had detected the prisoner in the very act of sheep- 
stealing on his domains, and had borne him off to be 
examined before the Squire, who is in the commission 
of the peace. 

A kind of tribunal was immediately held in the ser- 
vants' hall, a large chamber, with a stone floor, and a 



THE CULPRIT 95 

long table in the centre, at one end of which, just under 
an enormous clock, was placed the Squire's chair of 
justice, while Master Simon took his place at the table 
as clerk of the court. An attempt had been made by 
old Christy to keep out the gipsy gang, but in vain, 
and they, with the village worthies, and the household, 
half -filled the hall. The old housekeeper and the butler 
were in a panic at this dangerous irruption. They hur- 
ried away all the valuable things and portable articles 
that w^ere at hand, and even kept a dragon watch on 
the gipsies, lest they should carry off the house-clock, 
or the deal-table. 

Old Christy, and his faithful coadjutor the game- 
keeper, acted as constables to guard the prisoner, tri- 
umphing in having at last got this terrible offender 
in their clutches. Indeed, I am inclined to think the 
old man bore some peevish recollection of having been 
handled rather roughly by the gipsy in the chance- 
medley affair of May-day. 

Silence was now commanded by Master Simon ; but 
it was difficult to be enforced in such a motley assem- 
blage. There was a continual snarling and yelping of 
dogs, and, as fast as it was quelled in one corner, it 
broke out in another. The poor gipsy curs, who, like 
errant thieves, could not hold up their heads in an hon- 
est house, were worried and insulted by the gentlemen 
dogs of the establishment, without offering to make 
resistance ; the very curs of my Lady Lillycraf t bullied 
them with impunity. 

The examination was conducted with great mildness 
and indulgence by the Squire, partly from the kindness 
of his nature, and partly, I suspect, because his heart 
yearned towards the culprit, who had found great 



96 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

favor in his eyes, as I have already observed, from the 
skill he had at various times displayed in archery, 
morris-dancing, and other obsolete accomplishments. 
Proofs, however, were too strong. Ready-Money Jack 
told his story in a straightforw ard independent way, 
nothing daunted by the presence in which he found 
himself. He had suffered from various depredations 
on his sheepfold and poultry-yard, and had at length 
kept watch, and caught the delinquent in the very act 
of making off with a sheep on his shoulders. 

Tibbets was repeatedly interrupted, in the course 
of his testimony, by the culprit's mother, a furious old 
beldame, with an insufferable tongue, and who, in fact, 
was several times kept, with some difficulty, from fly- 
ing at him tooth and nail. The wife, too, of the prisoner, 
whom I am told he does not beat above half a dozen 
times a week, completely interested Lady Lillycraft in 
her husband's behalf, by her tears and supplications; 
and several of the other gipsy women were awakening 
strong sympathy among the young girls and maid-ser- 
vants in the background. The pretty black-eyed gipsy 
girl, whom I have mentioned on a former occasion as 
the sibyl that read the fortunes of the general, endeav- 
ored to wheedle that doughty warrior into their inter- 
ests, and even made some approaches to her old ac- 
quaintance. Master Simon; but was repelled by the 
latter with all the dignity of office, having assumed a 
look of gravity and importance suitable to the occasion. 

I was a little surprised, at first, to find honest Slingsby, 
the schoolmaster, rather opposed to his old crony Tib- 
bets, and coming forward as a kind of advocate for the 
accused. It seems that he had taken compassion on 
the forlorn fortunes of Star-light Tom, and had been 



THE CULPRIT 97 

trying his eloquence in his favor the whole way from 
the village, but without effect. During the examination 
of Ready-Money Jack, Slingsby had stood like "de- 
jected pity at his side," seeking every now and then, 
by a soft word, to soothe any exacerbation of his ire, 
or to qualify any harsh expression. He now ventured 
to make a few observations to the Squire in palliation 
of the delinquent's offense; but poor Slingsby spoke 
more from the heart than the head, and was evidently 
actuated merely by a general sympathy for every poor 
devil in trouble, and a liberal toleration for all kinds 
of vagabond existence. 

The ladies, too, large and small, with the kind-heart- 
edness of the sex, were zealous on the side of mercy, 
and interceded strenuously with the Squire; insomuch 
that the prisoner, finding himself unexpectedly sur- 
rounded by active friends, once more reared his crest, 
and seemed disposed for a time to put on the air of 
injured innocence. The Squire, however, with all his 
benevolence of heart, and his lurking weakness towards 
the prisoner, was too conscientious to swerve from the 
strict path of justice. Abundant concurring testimony 
made the proof of guilt incontrovertible, and Star-light 
Tom's mittimus was made out accordingly. 

The sympathy of the ladies was now greater than 
ever; they even made some attempts to mollify the ire 
of Ready- Money Jack ; but that sturdy potentate had 
been too much incensed by the repeated incursions into 
his territories by the predatory band of Star-light Tom, 
and he was resolved, he said, to drive the "varment 
reptiles" out of the neighborhood. To avoid all fur- 
ther importunities, as soon as the mittimus was made 
out, he girded up his loins, and strode back to his seat 



98 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

of empire, accompanied by his interceding friend, 
Slingsby, and followed by a detachment of the gipsy 
gang, who hung on his rear, assailing him with mingled 
prayers and execrations. 

The question now w as, how to dispose of the pris- 
oner; a matter of great moment in this peaceful estab- 
lishment, where so formidable a character as Star-light 
Tom was like a hawk entrapped in a dove-cote. As the 
hubbub and examination had occupied a considerable 
time, it was too late in the day to send him to the county 
prison, and that of the village was sadly out of repair 
from long want of occupation. Old Christy, who took 
great interest in the affair, proposed that the culprit 
should be committed for the night to an upper loft of a 
kind of tower in one of the outhouses, where he and 
the gamekeeper would mount guard. After much de- 
liberation, this measure was adopted ; the premises in 
question w^ere examined and made secure, and Christy 
and his trusty ally, the one armed with a fowling-piece, 
the other w ith an ancient blunderbuss, turned out as 
sentries to keep watch over this donjon-keep. 

Such is the momentous affair that has just taken 
place, and it is an event of too great moment in this 
quiet little world, not to turn it completely topsy-tur\y. 
Labor is at a stand. The house has been a scene of con- 
fusion the whole evening. It has been beleagured by 
gipsy women, with their children on their backs, wail- 
ing and lamenting; while the old virago of a mother 
has cruised up and down the lawn in front, shaking 
her head and muttering to herself, or now^ and then 
breaking into a paroxysm of rage, brandishing her fist 
at the Hall, and denouncing ill luck upon Ready- 
Money Jack, and even upon the Squire himself. 



THE CULPRIT 99 

Lady Lilly craft has given repeated audiences to the 
culprit's weeping wife, at the Hall door ; and the servant 
maids have stolen out to confer with the gipsy women 
under the trees. As to the little ladies of the family, 
they are all outrageous at Ready-Money Jack, whom 
they look upon in the light of a tyrannical giant of fairy 
tale. Phoebe Wilkins, contrary to her usual nature, is 
the only one pitiless in the affair. She thinks Mr. Tib- 
bets quite in the right ; and thinks the gipsies deserve 
to be punished severely for meddling with the sheep of 
the Tibbets's. 

In the meantime the females of the family evinced 
all the provident kindness of the sex, ever ready to 
soothe and succor the distressed, right or wrong. Lady 
Lillycraft has had a mattress taken to the outhouse, 
and comforts and delicacies of all kinds have been taken 
to the prisoner; even the little girls have sent their 
cakes and sweetmeats; so that, I'll warrant the vaga- 
bond has never fared so well in his life before. Old 
Christy, it is true, looks upon every thing with a wary 
eye; struts about with his blunderbuss with the air of 
a veteran campaigner, and will hardly allow himself 
to be spoken to. The gipsy women dare not come 
within gunshot, and every tatterdemalion of a boy has 
been frightened from the park. The old fellow is 
determined to lodge Star-light Tom in prison with his 
own hands ; and hopes, he says, to see one of the poach- 
ing crew made an example of. 

I doubt, after all, whether the worthy Squire is not 
the greatest sufferer in the whole affair. His honorable 
sense of duty obliges him to be rigid, but the over- 
flowing kindness of his nature makes this a grievous 
trial to him. 



100 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

He is not accustomed to have such demands upon his 
justice in his truly patriarchal domain ; and it wounds 
his benevolent spirit, that while prosperity and hap- 
piness are flowing in thus bounteously upon him, he 
should have to inflict misery upon a fellow-being. 

He has been troubled and cast down the whole even- 
ing; took leave of the family, on going to bed, with a 
sigh, instead of his usual hearty and affectionate tone ; 
and will, in all probability, have a far more sleepless 
night than his prisoner. Indeed, this unlucky affair 
has cast a damp upon the whole household, as there 
appears to be an universal opinion that the unlucky 
culprit will come to the gallows. 

Morning. — The clouds of last evening are all blown 
over. A load has been taken from the Squire's heart, 
and every face is once more in smiles. The game- 
keeper made his appearance at an early hour, com- 
pletely shamefaced and crest-fallen. Star-light Tom 
had made his escape in the night; how he had got out 
of the loft no one could tell : the Devil they think must 
have assisted him. Old Christy was so mortified that 
he would not show his face, but had shut himself up 
in his strong-hold at the dog-kennel, and would not 
be spoken with. What has particularly relieved the 
Squire is, that there is very little likelihood of the cul- 
prit's being retaken, having gone off on one of the old 
gentleman's best hunters. 

THE WEDDING 

Notwithstanding the doubts and demurs of Lady 
Lilly craft, and all the grave objections conjured up 
against the month of May, the wedding has at length 



THE WEDDING 101 

happily taken place. It was celebrated at the village 
church, in presence of a numerous company of rela- 
tives and friends, and many of the tenantry. The 
Squire must needs have something of the old cere- 
monies observed on the occasion ; so at the gate of the 
church-yard, several little girls of the village, dressed 
in white, were in readiness with baskets of flowers, 
which they strewed before the bride; and the butler 
bore before her the bride-cup, a great silver embossed 
bowl, one of the family relics from the days of the hard 
drinkers. This was filled with rich wine, and deco- 
rated with a branch of rosemary, tied with gay ribbons, 
according to ancient custom. 

"Happy is the bride that the sun shines on," says 
the old proverb ; and it was as sunny and auspicious 
a morning as heart could wish. The bride looked 
uncommonly beautiful ; but, in fact, what woman does 
not look interesting on her wedding day? I know no 
sight more charming and touching than that of a young 
and timid bride, in her robes of virgin white, led up 
trembling to the altar. When I thus behold a lovely 
girl, in the tenderness of her years, forsaking the house 
of her fathers, and the home of her childhood; and 
with the implicit confiding, and the sweet self-abandon- 
ment, which belong to woman, giving up all the world 
for the man of her choice : when I hear her, in the good 
old language of the ritual, yielding herself to him, 
" for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness 
and in health, to love, honor, and obey, till death us 
do part," it brings to my mind the beautiful and affect- 
ing self-devotion of Ruth : " Whither thou goest I will 
go, and where thou lodgest I will lodge; thy people 
shall be my people, and thy God my God." 



102 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

The fair Julia was supported on the trying occasion 
by Lady Lillycraft, whose heart was overflowing with 
its wonted sympathy in all matters of love and matri- 
mony. As the bride approached the altar, her face 
would be one moment covered with blushes, and the 
next deadly pale; and she seemed almost ready to 
shrink from sight among her female companions. 

I do not know what it is that makes every one serious, 
and, as it were, awe-struck, at a marriage ceremony; 
which is generally considered an occasion of festivity 
and rejoicing. As the ceremony was performing, I 
observed many a rosy face among the country girls 
turn pale, and I did not see a smile throughout the 
church. The young ladies from the Hall were almost 
as much frightened as if it had been their own case, 
and stole many a look of sympathy at their trembling 
companion. A tear stood in the eye of the sensitive 
Lady Lillycraft; and as to Phoebe Wilkins, who was 
present, she absolutely wept and sobbed aloud ; but it 
is hard to tell, half the time, what these fond foolish 
creatures are crying about. 

The captain, too, though naturally gay and uncon- 
cerned, was much agitated on the occasion; and, in 
attempting to put the ring upon the bride's finger, 
dropped it on the floor ; which Lady Lillycraft has since 
assured me is a very lucky omen. Even Master Simon 
had lost his usual vivacity, and assumed a most whim- 
sically solemn face, which he is apt to do on all occa- 
sions of ceremony. He had much whispering "with the 
parson and parish-clerk, for he is always a busy per- 
sonao^e in the scene, and he echoed the clerk's amen 
with a solemnity and devotion that edified the whole 
assemblage. 



THE WEDDING 103 

The moment, however, that the ceremony was over, 
the transition was magical. The bride-cup was passed 
round, according to ancient usage, for the company to 
drink to a happy union ; every one's f eehngs seemed to 
break forth from restraint. Master Simon had a world 
of bachelor pleasantries to utter, and as to the gallant 
general, he bowed and cooed about the dulcet Lady 
Lillycraft, like a mighty cock-pigeon about his dame. 

The villagers gathered in the church-yard to cheer 
the happy couple as they left the church; and the 
musical tailor had marshaled his band, and set up a 
hideous discord, as the blushing and smiling bride 
passed through a lane of honest peasantry to her car- 
riage. The children shouted and threw up their hats; 
the bells rang a merry peal that set all the crows and 
rooks flying and cawing about the air, and threatened 
to bring down the battlements of the old tower; and 
there was a continual popping off of rusty firelocks 
from every part of the neighborhood. 

The prodigal son distinguished himself on the occa- 
sion, having hoisted a flag on the top of the school- 
house, and kept the village in a hubbub from sunrise, 
with the sound of drum and fife and pandean pipe ; in 
which species of music several of his scholars are mak- 
ing wonderful proficiency. In his great zeal, however, 
he had nearly done mischief; for on returning from 
church, the horses of the bride's carriage took fright 
from the discharge of a row of old gun-barrels, which 
he had mounted as a park of artillery in front of the 
school-house, to give the captain a military salute as 
he passed. 

The day passed off with great rustic rejoicing. 
Tables were spread under the trees in the park, where 



104 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

all the peasantry of the neighborhood were regaled 
with roast-beef and plum-pudding, and oceans of ale. 
Ready- Money Jack presided at one of the tables, and 
became so full of good cheer, as to unbend from his 
usual gravity, to sing a song out of all tune, and give 
two or three shouts of laughter, that almost electrified 
his neighbors, like so many peals of thunder. The 
schoolmaster and the apothecary vied with each other 
in making speeches over their liquor; and there were 
occasional glees and musical performances by the vil- 
lage band, that must have frightened every faun and 
dryad from the park. Even old Christy, who had got 
on a new dress, from top to toe, and shone in all the 
splendor of bright leather-breeches, and an enormous 
wedding favor in his cap, forgot his usual crustiness^ 
became inspired by wine and wassail, and absolutely 
danced a hornpipe on one of the tables, with all the 
grace and agility of a mannikin hung upon wires. 

Equal gayety reigned within doors, where a large 
party of friends were entertained. Every one laughed 
at his own pleasantry, without attending to that of his 
neighbor. Loads of bride-cake were distributed. The 
young ladies were all busy in passing morsels of it 
through the wedding-ring to dream on, and I myself 
assisted a little boarding-school girl in putting up a 
quantity for her companions, which I have no doubt 
will set all the little heads in the school gadding, for 
a week at least. 

After dinner all the company, great and small, gentle 
and simple, abandoned themselves to the dance: not 
the modern quadrille, with its graceful gravity, but the 
merry, social, old country dance; the true dance, as 
the Squire says, for a wedding occasion, as it sets all 



THE WEDDING 105 

the world jigging in couples, hand in hand, and makes 
every eye and every heart dance merrily to the music. 
According to frank old usage, the gentlefolks of the 
Hall mingled for a time in the dance of the peasantry, 
who had a great tent erected for a ball-room; and I 
think I never saw Master Simon more in his element 
than when figuring about among his rustic admirers, 
as master of the ceremonies; and with a mingled air 
of protection and gallantry, leading out the quondam 
Queen of May, all blushing at the signal honor con- 
ferred upon her. 

In the evening the whole village was illuminated, 
excepting the house of the radical, who has not shown 
his face during the rejoicings. There was a display of 
fireworks at the school-house, got up by the prodigal 
son, which had well nigh set fire to the building. The 
Squire is so much pleased with the extraordinary ser- 
vices of this last-mentioned worthy, that he talks of 
enrolling him in his list of valuable retainers, and 
promoting him to some important post on the estate ; 
peradventure to be falconer, if the hawks can ever be 
brought into proper training. 

There is a well-known old proverb, which says " one 
wedding makes many," — or something to the same 
purpose; and I should not be surprised if it holds good 
in the present instance. I have seen several flirtations 
among the young people brought together on this occa- 
sion ; and a great deal of strolling about in pairs, among 
the retired walks and blossoming shrubberies of the 
old garden: and if groves were really given to whis- 
pering, as poets would fain make us believe. Heaven 
knows what love-tales the grave-looking old trees about 
this venerable country-seat might blab to the world. 



106 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

The general, too, has w axed very zealous in his de- 
votions within the last few days, as the time of her lady- 
ship's departure approaches. I observed him casting 
many a tender look at her during the wedding dinner, 
while the courses w^ere changing ; though he was always 
liable to be interrupted in his adoration by the appear- 
ance of any new delicacy. The general, in fact, has 
arrived at that time of life, when the heart and the 
stomach maintain a kind of balance of power, and 
when a man is apt to be perplexed in his affections 
between a fine woman and a truffled turkey. Her lady- 
ship w^as certainly rivaled through the whole of the 
first course by a dish of stewed carp ; and there w^as one 
glance, which was evidently intended to be a point- 
blank shot at her heart, and could scarcely have failed 
to effect a practicable breach, had it not unluckily been 
directed away to a tempting breast of lamb, in which 
it immediately produced a formidable incision. 

Thus did this faithless general go on, coquetting 
during the whole dinner, and committing an infidelity 
with every new dish; until, in the end, he was so over- 
powered by the attentions he had paid to fish, flesh, 
and fowl; to pastry, jelly, cream, and blanc-mange, 
that he seemed to sink within himself: his eyes swam 
beneath their lids, and their fire w as so much slackened, 
that he could no longer discharge a single glance that 
would reach across the table. Upon the whole, I fear 
the general ate himself into as much disgrace, at this 
memorable dinner, as I have seen him sleep himself 
into on a former occasion. 

I am told, moreover, that young Jack Tibbets was 
so touched by the wedding ceremony, at which he 
was present, and so captivated by the sensibility of poor 



THE WEDDING 107 

Phoebe Wilkins, who certainly looked all the better for 
her tears, that he had a reconciliation with her that 
very day after dinner, in one of the groves of the park, 
and danced with her in the evening; to the complete 
confusion of all Dame Tibbets' domestic politics. I 
met them walking together in the park, shortly after 
the reconciliation must have taken place. Young Jack 
carried himself gayly and manfully; but Phoebe hung 
her head, blushing, as I approached. However, just 
as she passed me, and dropped a courtesy, I caught 
a shy gleam of her eye from under her bonnet ; but it 
was immediately cast down again. I saw enough in that 
single gleam, and in an involuntary smile dimpling 
about her rosy lips, to feel satisfied that the little gipsy's 
heart was happy again. 

What is more. Lady Lillycraft, w ith her usual bene- 
volence and zeal in all matters of this tender nature, 
on hearing of the reconciliation of the lovers, undertook 
the critical task of breaking the matter to Ready- 
Money Jack. She thought there was no time like the 
present, and attacked the sturdy old yeoman that very 
evening in the park, while his heart was yet lifted up 
with the Squire's good cheer. Jack was a little surprised 
at being drawn aside by her ladyship, but was not to 
be flurried by such an honor : he was still more surprised 
by the nature of her communication, and by this first 
intelligence of an affair that had been passing under 
his eye. He listened, however, with his usual gravity, 
as her ladyship represented the advantages of the 
match, the good qualities of the girl, and the distress 
which she had lately suffered : at length his eye began 
to kindle, and his hand to play with the head of his 
cudgel. Lady Lillycraft saw that something in the 



108 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

narrative had gone wrong, and hastened to mollify his 
rising ire by reiterating the soft-hearted Phoebe's merit 
and fidelity, and her great unhappiness; when old 
Ready- Money suddenly interrupted her by exclaiming, 
that if Jack did not marry the wench, he'd break every 
bone in his body ! The match, therefore, is considered 
a settled thing: Dame Tibbets and the housekeeper 
have made friends, and drunk tea together ; and Phoebe 
has again recovered her good looks and good spirits, 
and is caroling from morning till night like a lark. 

But the most whimsical caprice of Cupid is one that 
I should be almost afraid to mention, did I not know 
that I was writing for readers well experienced in the 
waywardness of this most mischievous deity. The 
morning after the wedding, therefore, while Lady 
Lillycraft was making preparations for her departure, 
an audience was requested by her immaculate hand- 
maid, Mrs. Hannah, w^ho, with much primming of the 
mouth, and many maidenly hesitations, requested leave 
to stay behind, and that Lady Lillycraft would supply 
her place with some other servant. Her ladyship was 
astonished: "What! Hannah going to quit her, that 
had lived with her so long!" 

" Why; one could not help it ; one must settle in life 
some time or other." 

The good lady was still lost in amazement ; at length 
the secret was gasped from the dry lips of the maiden 
gentlewoman: "She had been some time thinking of 
changing her condition, and at length had given her 
word, last evening, to Mr. Christy, the huntsman." 

How, or when, or where this singular courtship had 
been carried on, I have not been able to learn ; nor how 
she has been able, with the vinegar of her disposition. 



THE WEDDING lOd 

to soften the stony heart of old Nimrod : so, however, 
it is, and it has astonished every one. With all her lady- 
ship's love of match-making, this last fume of Hymen's 
torch has been too much for her. She has endeavored 
to reason with Mrs. Hannah, but all in vain ; her mind 
was made up, and she grew tart on the least contradic- 
tion. Lady Lillycraf t applied to the Squire for his inter- 
ference. " She did not know what she should do with- 
out Mrs. Hannah, she had been used to have her about 
her so long a time." 

The Squire, on the contrary, rejoiced in the match, 
as relieving the good lady from a kind of toilet-tyrant, 
under whose sway she had suffered for years. Instead 
of thwarting the affair, therefore, he has given it his 
full countenance; and declares that he will set up the 
young couple in one of the best cottages on his estate. 
The approbation of the Squire has been followed by 
that of the whole household; they all declare, that if 
ever matches are really made in heaven, this must have 
been; for that old Christy and Mrs. Hannah were as 
evidently formed to be linked together, as ever were 
pepper-box and vinegar-cruet. 

As soon as this matter was arranged. Lady Lilly- 
craft took her leave of the family at the Hall ; taking 
with her the captain and his blushing bride, who are 
to pass the honeymoon with her. Master Simon accom- 
panied them on horseback, and indeed means to ride 
on ahead to make preparations. The general, who was 
fishing in vain for an invitation to her seat, handed 
her ladyship into her carriage with a heavy sigh ; upon 
which his bosom friend, Master Simon, who was just 
mounting his horse, gave me a knowing wink, made 
an abominably wry face, and leaning from his saddle. 



110 BRACEBRIDGE HALL 

whispered loudly in my ear, "It won't do!" Then 
putting spurs to his horse, away he cantered off. The 
general stood for some time waving his hat after the 
carriage as it rolled down the avenue, until he was 
seized with a fit of sneezing, from exposing his head 
to the cool breeze. I observed that he returned rather 
thoughtfully to the house; whistling softly to himself, 
with his hands behind his back, and an exceedingly 
dubious air. 

The company have now almost all taken their de- 
parture; I have determined to do the same to-morrow 
morning; and I hope my reader may not think that I 
have already lingered too long at the Hall. I have been 
tempted to do so, however, because I thought I had 
lit upon one of the retired places where there are yet 
some traces to be met with of old English character. 
A little while hence, and all these will probably have 
passed away. Ready- Money Jack will sleep with his 
fathers : the good Squire, and all his peculiarities, will 
be buried in the neighboring church. The old Hall 
will be modernized into a fashionable country-seat, or, 
peradventure, a manufactory. The park will be cut up 
into petty farms and kitchen-gardens. A daily coach 
will run through the village; it will become, like all 
other commonplace villages, thronged with coachmen, 
post-boys, tipplers, and politicians: and Christmas, 
May-day, and all the other hearty merry-makings of 
the "good old times," will be forgotten. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 



THE HALL 

Page 1 : the volumes of the Sketch-Book: the Sketch-Book, writ- 
ten in England, was published serially in America between 
May, 1819, and September, 1820, two years before Irving 
wrote Bracebridge Hall. The essays in the Sketch-Book which 
concern the reader of this volume are The Stage Coach, Christ- 
mas Eve, Christmas Day, and The Christmas Dinner. 

Page 2: a humorist: not a wit or joker, but one who has a 
peculiarity of character which he indulges in some odd or 
eccentric way. 

Page 2: jumps: agrees with; suits. 

Page 2: my "fatherland": note in this expression, and in 
others like it throughout the sketches, Irving's desire to create 
a friendly feeling between English and American readers. 
Thackeray called Irving " the first ambassador whom the New 
World of Letters sent to the Old." As you read Bracebridge 
Hall, try to find indications of the truth of this statement. 

In what ways is this chapter distinctly introductory? Does 
it arouse curiosity or interest? How? 

Words for study : ward ; feudal ; 'parterres ; exotics ; donjon- 
keep. 

THE BUSY MAN 

Page 4: breaking a pointer: teaching a dog to point with its 
nose at game when hunting. 

Page 4: factotum: one who does everything. 

Page 5: farriery: the curing of diseases among horses and 
cattle. 

Page 5: Elizabeth: queen of England, 1558-1603. 

Page 5: the Novelist's Magazine, etc.: these four periodicals 
of sport, adventure, and crime still further reveal Master 
Simon's tastes and character. 

Page 5: a veritable Cremona: violins of superior quality were 
made at Cremona in Italy as long ago as the sixteenth cen- 
tury. 



112 EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 

Page 6: Orpheus: the chief musician of Greek mythology. 
Every one sliould know the beautiful story of Orpheus and 
Eurydice. Cf . Bulfinch's Age of Fable. 

Page 6: camera lucida: literally, a light chamber, or box. An 
instrument for throwing a magnified image on a canvas or 
paper. Generally used with the microscope. 

Page' 7: casting, imping, etc. : terms of the ancient sport of fal- 
conry. See any large dictionary. 

Page 8 : Sir Joshua Reynolds : the greatest of English portrait 
painters (1723-1792). 

What method does Irving use to bring before you a clear 
picture of Master Simon and Old Christy? Is he more con- 
cerned with their characters or with their personal appear- 
ance? Do you find any particularly suggestive sentences? 
Are the descriptions general or minute? Note the connective 
words and phrases between the paragraphs of this chapter. 
Words for study : superannuated; epitome; drench; prolixity; 
durance; whippers-in; testy ; japanned; pragmatical j captious- 
ness; opinionated; assiduous; vestal; vortex. 

THE WIDOW 

Page 10: in town: in London. 

Page 10: present king: George IV. 

Page 11: Kensington Garden: one of the fashionable public 
parks of London. 

Page 11: Sir Charles Grandison: a famous novel by Samuel 
Richardson, published in 1753. 

Page 12: Angola: same as Angora, a city of Asia Minor which 
has given its name to a variety of cats, goats, and rabbits. 

Page 12: Pamela: a novel by Samuel Richardson (1740). It 
is sometimes spoken of as "the starting-point of the mod- 
ern novel." 

Page 12: Castle of Otranto: a novel by Horace Walpole, pub- 
lished in 1764. Even in 1822, Lady Lillycraft's favorite books 
were old-fashioned and quaint. 

Page 13 : a red coat: that is, a British soldier in his red uniform. 
Pick out sentences which reveal various traits of Lady 
Lillycraft's character. What is Irving's method of describ- 
ing her? What do you think is his own opinion of her? What 
is yours ? 

Words for study: whimsical; ostentation; toasts; gouty shoes; 
epicure; erudition; reeking ; swain; poach. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 113 



AN OLD SOLDIER 

Page 13: a blade of the old school: a sharp-witted, wild fellow 
of a former generation ; an old-fashioned dude. 

Page 13: come upon the town: come into London society. 

Page 14: Seringapatam : a town in the state of Mysore, India. 
On May 4, 1799, the place was stormed by the British, 
Tippu Sahib, the Sultan of Mysore, being killed in the 
battle. 

Page 15: quondam flame: former sweetheart. 

Page 16: Windsor- terrace : the famous terrace which surrounds 
the upper ward of Windsor Castle at Windsor, twenty miles 
from London, is more than half a mile long, and affords a 
magnificent view of the surrounding country. The castle is 
one of the residences of the British sovereign. 

Page 16: Bonaparte's invasion: Napoleon planned his invasion 
of England in the summer of 1805. 

What is the tone, or spirit, of this sketch as a whole? 
Can you find an interesting illustration of anticlimax in 
this essay? of simile? of sarcasm? 

Words for study: lithe; ensign; cant; dowager; levee; wax, 

THE WIDOW'S RETINUE 

Page 18: dew-laps: the fold of skin that hangs from the throat 
of oxen and cows. 

Page 18: varlet: rascal. 

Page 19: curmudgeon: ugly fellow; churl. 

Page 20: verjuice: the green sour juice of apples or grapes; 
sourness. 

Page 20: abigail: a general term for a lady's maid or servant. 
When taking food to David, Abigail, the wife of Nabal, speaks 
of herself as "thine handmaid." For the story, see 1 Sam. 
XXV, 12-41. 

"Irving is a master of the art of description by compari- 
son." Do you find anything in this sketch to warrant such 
an assertion? 

Note the great number of strong, picturesque adjectives in 
this paper. 

Words for study: factitious; robustious; ennui; motley; 
pampered; zephyr; tart. 



114 EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 



READY-MONEY JACK 

Page 22 : seven-shilling pieces : one third of a guinea (see below). 
This piece lias not been coined since 1813. 

Page 22: guinea: an English gold coin issued between 1663 and 
1813. It contained 21 shillings and was equal to about $5 
in American money. 

Page 22: roaring blades: the following three sentences suffi- 
ciently explain the phrase. 

Page 22 : Pinner of Wakefield : the chief character in Rob- 
ert Greene's comedy, George-a-Greene, the Pinner of Wakefield, 
first printed in 1599. A pinner, or pinder, was a man ap- 
pointed to take charge of the village pound, a pen or fold 
in which he placed stray cattle and sheep. 

Page 23: the green: the village common, or park. 

Page 24: in at the death: Tibbets is one of the fastest and 
hardest riders in the chase, so that he is well up with the 
hounds when the fox is killed. 

Page 25: "gives his little senate laws ": cf. Pope's Epistle to 
Arbuthnot, lines 206-207. 

" Like Cato, give his little senate laws, 
And sit attentive to his own applause." 

Page 25: Bartholomew fair: a famous fair formerly held at 
Smithfield in London on St. Bartholomew's Day, August 24. 
It was first instituted in 1133, and ceased to be held in 1855. 
(Well worth further examination in a large encyclopaedia.) 

Page 25: Samson . . . among the Philistines: the story of 
Samson should be familiar to every one. Cf. Judges xxiii- 
xxvi. 

Page 26: Friar Tuck, or . . . Robin Hood: Robin Hood was 
an outlaw and popular hero said to have lived in the twelfth 
century in Sherwood and Charnwood forests. His most 
famous companions were Friar Tuck, Maid Marian, Little 
John, and Allen-a-Dale. He is a favorite subject in the old 
English ballads, and is often associated with May-Day fes- 
tivities. Cf. the character of Locksley in Scott's Ivanhoe. 

Page 26: old Tusser: Thomas Tusser, an early English poet 
(1527?-1580?). 

What does Irving mean on page 25 when he says: "petty 
disputes . . . which otherwise might have been nursed — 
into tolerable lawsuits"? 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 115 

What gives this sketch its particular merit? 

Mention five characteristics of Ready-Money Jack which 
seem to you marked. 

Words for study : potentate ; yeoman; physiognomy; wake; 
tartar. 

STORY-TELLING 

Page 27: the Wandering Jew, etc.: these four mysterious per- 
sonages of history whom Irving mentions have interesting 
and peculiar stories connected with them which should be 
looked up in Chambers's Book of Days, or in any large ency- 
clopaedia of names. 



THE STOUT GENTLEMAN 

Page 29: Derby: the small town of Irving 's day was in 1905 a 
city of 125,000. It is in north central England, on the Der- 
went River. 

Page 29: wall-eyed: having a large, staring, whitish eye. 

Page 29: drab: a coarse girl; a slattern. 

Page 30: an upper Benjamin: a top-coat, or overcoat formerly 
worn by men. 

Page 30: Boots: the servant in an English inn who blacks the 
boots and shoes of guests. 

Page 31: the Lady's Magazine, or "entertaining companion 
for the fair sex, appropriated solely to their use and amuse- 
ment," was published at intervals between 1773 and 1819. 
It was one of the first magazines published for women. 

Page 32: ycleped: called; named. The past participle of an 
obsolete verb, clepe. 

Page 32: hipped: melancholy; gloomy. 

Page 34: slammerkin: a coarse woman. 

Page 34 : nincompoop : blockhead; simpleton. 

Page 34 : Whig . . . radical : names of political parties in 
England in Irving's time. See note on Radical, page 86. 

Page 34: Hunt: probably Leigh Hunt (1784-1859), English 
poet and essayist, the friend of Keats, Shelley, and Byron. 
He is remembered chiefly perhaps by his poem, Abou Ben 
Adhem. In politics Hunt was an extreme radical. 

Page 37 : Belcher : a neckerchief of dark blue cloth with large 
white spots. So called from an English pugilist, Jim Belcher, 
of Irving's day. 



116 EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 

Page 37: Highgate: a suburb of London on a hill to the north 

of the city. 
Page 37: negus: punch. 
Page 38: incog.: incognito, i. e., in disguise. 
Page 39: cabbaged: shaped like a cabbage-head. 

Study carefully the opening paragraph of this story. What 
is there about this description that is remarkable? How does 
Irving emphasize the dreariness and the wetness of the Sun- 
day in the tavern? 

Examine the paragraphs for their construction, especially 
for the way in which they are often built up from " topic-sen- 
tences." 

How does Irving excite the reader's curiosity and interest? 
What is the spirit, or tone, of this paper? 

Words for study: pattens; seethed; purlieus; militant; ob- 
streperous; dudgeon; termagant; publicans; negus; plethoric. 

THE FARM-HOUSE 

Page 42: the Prodigal Son: see St. Luke xv, 11-32. 
Page 44: " Marry come up! " a phrase formerly used to express 
contempt or surprise. 

What knowledge of English life do you gain from this ac- 
count of the quarrel between Dame Tibbets and the house- 
keeper? 

Words for study : paling; notable; blunderbuss; confidant; 
vapo rings. 

FALCONRY 

Page 46: Cressy, Poictiers, and Agincourt: three great battles 
in which the English defeated the French. Fought in 1346, 
1356, and 1415. 

Page 46: Braithwaite: Richard Braithwaite, an early English 
writer of little note (1588?-1673). 

Page 46: tassel-gentel : a male falcon that has been trained. 

Page 47: Juliana Barnes: said to have written one of the first 
books printed in England, — The Boke of Saint Albans (1486) • 
It contained essays on hawking and hunting. 

Page 47: Markham: a minor English author (1568?-1637). 

Page 48: in terrorem: as a warning. 

Page 48: secundem artem: according to rule. 

Page 49: Snowden . . . Penmanmawr: two famous mountains 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 117 

of Wales, the former (3590 ft.) the highest in Great Britain 

south of Scotland. 
Page 49: Don Quixote: the hero of the world- renowned Don 

Quixote, by the Spanish writer Cervantes (1547-1616). 
Page 50: Old Nimrod: "He was a mighty hunter before the 

Lord." (Cf. Genesis x, 8-9.) 

Words for study: cloth-yard shaft; jesses ; tapestry; untract- 

ahle; refractory ; arrant; raked; agog. 

HAWKING 

Page 50: rantipole: wild, unruly. 

Page 51: galloway: a breed of horses of small size first raised 
in Galloway, Scotland. 

Page 51: Blenheim: a village in Bavaria, where in 1704 the 
English and Germans defeated the French. Cf. Southey's 
poem, After Blenheim, and Addison's verses. The Campaign. 

Page 53: Robin Good-fellow: a well-disposed spirit, or fairy, 
the child of Oberon, king of fairyland. Compare the brownie 
of Scotland and Shakespeare's Puck. 

Page 53: this local habitation of an " airy nothing ": cf. Shake- 
speare's A Midsummer Night's Dream, V, i, 16-17. 

Page 53: Webster: John Webster (1580-1624), a dramatist of 
Shakespeare's day, noted for his tragedies. 

Page 53 : urim and thummim : literally, lights and perfections. 
Certain objects, possibly precious stones, kept inside the 
so-called breastplate of the Jewish high priest of the first 
temple. They seem to have been connected with oracular 
responses given by him. Little that is certain is known 
about them. 

Page 53 : rose : by using this rare form of the past participle 
Irving gives an antique flavor to the essay. 

Page 54: hood: a covering for the hawk's head which pre- 
vented it from seeing the game until the hunters wished it to 

fly- 

Note the paragraph construction of this chapter. 

Professor Jowett once said, "Sentences should be like the 
links of a chain, not like beads on a string." Can you explain 
what this means and illustrate your explanation by the sen- 
tences of this story? Try to do the same with "The Stout 
Gentleman," "Gipsies," and others. 

Words for study: grange; quarry; carrion; mercenary; nos- 
trums ; commiserate; equitation. 



118 EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 



FORTUNE-TELLING 

Page 58: baggage: "a romping, saucy girl"; a flirt. 

Page 58: Zounds: contraction of God's wounds. An oath com- 
mon in the eighteenth century. 

Page 59 : Doncaster : a town in the West Riding of Yorkshire, 
for many years the scene of famous horse races. 

Page 61 : " God save the King ": the Enghsh national anthem, 
first played in 1740. The words and music were both com- 
posed probably by Henry Carey. The tune was afterward 
used as the Danish, Prussian, German, and American na- 
tional air. 

With this sketch read Addison's Spectator, No. 130, for an 
account of a similar experience. 

Words for study: volubility; banter ; roister; oracular; joint' 
ure; wag; curricle. 

GIPSIES 

Page 62: " minion of the moon ": cf. Shakespeare's Henry /F, 
Part I, I, ii: "gentlemen of the shade, minions of the moon.* 
Minion = favorite. 

Page 62: scape-goat: an interesting word to examine in any 
large dictionary. See also Leviticus xvi. 

Page 63: morris-dancer: the morris-dance of the seventeenth 
century was an elaborate, costumed performance, or mas- 
querade, in which dancing played an important part. 

Page 63 : Saturnalia : in ancient Rome the festival of Saturn, 
celebrated in December with feasting and revelry among all 
classes; somewhat similar to the American "Thanksgiving 
Day." 

Page 66: the old song: from Shakespeare's As You Like It, 
II, V. 

Page 66: Robin Good-fellow: see note to page 53. 

Page 66: Robin Hood: see note to page 26. 

The subject of this essay is well worth further examination. 
An admirable article on gipsies may be found in the New 
International Encyclopoedia. See, also, George Borrow's The 
Gypsies in Spain, and Addison's paper in the Spectator, No. 
130. 

Words for study: purlieus; nocturnal; adroit; augury; pen- 
sively ; fallacy ; conjure; depredate; lithe; denizens; oracles; bane. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 119 



VILLAGE WORTHIES 

Page 67: factotum: see note to page 4. 

Page 67: jumps: see note to page 2. 

Page 67: Caesar: the greatest of Roman generals and rulers 

(100 b. C.-44 B. c). 
Page 68: phthisical: wasting of the flesh; here simply wearing, 

or tiresome. 
Page 68: " make night hideous ": cf. Hamlet, I, iv. Also Pope's 

Dunciad, line 165. 
Page 68: Flying Island of Laputa: the story of this island is in 

the third voyage of Gu/ii'yer's Travels, by Jonathan Swift (1726). 
Can you write imaginary sketches of other village worthies? 
Words for study: fHe; alacrity ; vivacious; superannuated ; 

pensioner; quadrant ; sententious. 

THE SCHOOLMASTER 

Page 71: monarch of all he surveyed: cf. Cowper's poem, The 
Solitude of Alexander Selkirk, the first line : " I am monarch of 
all I survey." 

Page 73: old Scottish song: Robert Burns's famous song, Auld 
Lang Syne. 

Page 73 : the rod of empire : cf . Gray's Elegy Written in a Coun- 
try Churchyard, stanza 12: — 

"Hands that the rod of empire might have swayed." 

What do you think of Irving's reflections in the last two 
paragraphs? Is he speaking possibly from experiences of his 
own? 

Note the use of the words however and therefore in this 
sketch. 

Words for study: laggard; wistfully; wicket; cosmopolite. 

THE ROOKERY 

Page 75: cousins-german : first or own cousins. 

Page 76: ** their hands ": cf. Genesis xvi, 12. 

Page 80: "with all its chivaby ": see Campbell's ballad, Ho- 

henlinden. 
Page 80: posse comitatus : a law term which means, " the armed 

force of the country." 



120 EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 

Page 81: "all abroad": cf. Thomas Sterahold's Version of 

Psalm CIV. 
Page 82: maugre: in spite of (obs.). 
Page 83: anchorite: hermit; recluse. 

How does Irving arouse the reader's interest in the rooks? 

What comment would you make upon the style of this essay? 
Words for study : predatory ; gibbeted ; withy ; assiduity; 

avidity ; derogates ; delinquency ; depredation ; filch ; derogatory ; 

august; bumpkins; misanthrope; foray ; plebeian; ethereal; 

querulous. 

MAY-DAY 

Page 84: King Arthur: a British chieftain of the fifth and sixth 
centuries about whom numberless legends grew during the 
Middle Ages. The "excellent romance" is Sir Thomas Mal- 
ory's Morte d' Arthur, printed by Caxton in 1485. 

Page 84: Queen of May: the village girl chosen to preside over 
the May-Day festivities. Read here Tennyson's beautiful 
poem, " The May Queen." 

Page 84: morris -dancers : See note to page 63. 

Page 84: Maid Marian: see note to page 26. 

Page 86; " minion of the moon " : see note to page 62. 

Page 86: lazaroni: idlers, beggars. 

Page 86: raking: joking. 

Page 86: Lothario: a character in Nicholas Rowe's play. The 
Fair Penitent, first acted in 1703. One of the other characters 
calls him "that haughty, gallant, gay Lothario." 

Page 86: the radical: in politics, one who thinks that every- 
thing is wrong as it is, and who believes in reform carried to 
extreme measures. The opposite of conservative. 

Page 88: a match at grinning: in the eighteenth century, prizes 
were sometimes given at country fairs to those who could 
grin in the most grotesque or ridiculous manner. Cf. Addi- 
son's Spectator, No. 173. 

Page 88: Cobbett: a noted English radical, who, when Irving 
wrote Bracebridge Hall, was famous for his bitter attacks 
upon the government in his magazine, The Weekly Political 
Register. 

Page 91 : vi et armis: by main force. 

Words for study : agog ; laconic ; loquacious ; notorious ; re- 
connoitre ; truncheon ; logician ; proselyte ; excursive ; infallible; 
recreant ; pique ; sententious ; intrepid. 



EXPLANATORY NOTES AND QUESTIONS 121 



THE CULPRIT 

Page 93: seraglio: confused here, as often, with "harem." Of 
course Irving means simply, "his whole flock of hens or 
wives." 

Page 96: sibyl: fortune-teller. A word with an interesting his- 
tory. 

Page 97: exacerbation: aggravation; excess. 

Page 97: mittimus: a warrant of commitment to prison. 

Page 98: virago: a bold, impudent woman. 

Notice in this sketch the "easy grace, the spirit, the sly 
humor," which have justly made Irving's essays classic. 

Why do the people at the Hall sympathize with Star-light 
Tom? How, in your opinion, did he escape? What does the 
reference to "one of the squire's best hunters" suggest to 
you? 

Words for study : posse ; dubious ; intimidated ; irruption; 
coadjutor ; peevish ; obsolete ; delinquent ; beldame; palliation ^ 
execrations; paroxysm; tatterdemalion. 

THE WEDDING 

Page 101 : Ruth: Book of Ruth i, 16. 

Page 108: deity: that is, Cupid, who was worshipped by the 

Romans as the God of love. 
Page 109: Nimrod: see note to page 50. 
Page 109: Hymen: in classical mythology the god of marriage, 

generally represented as carrying a torch when presiding over 

wedding ceremonies. 

Note the skill with which Irving brings his visit to a close. 

How is the spirit of the whole book well illustrated by this 

concluding sketch? 

Words for study: tenantry; rosemary; dulcet; pandean 

pipes ; faun ; dryad ; mannikin ; mollify ; wry. 



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